Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din
by Sev Fett of the cuy'val dar 10
Summary: Jango Fett, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, was the Father of all of the Clones. Only two ever became truly that: His sons. This is the story of how one of them came to be...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: To Kamino  
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away…on Mand'yaim, a certain Fett was preparing for his journey to the mysterious planet of Kamino...

"Jango, you can't be fierfeking serious!" Zam Wesell said with an emotion that was more or less worry, as Jango loaded the last of the training equipment onto his highly modified Fire-Spray class patrol ship Slave I. He was careful to secure everything into their web-holders to minimize the shifting through their trip. That was a headache he would despise. Zam followed him as he worked emotionally and mechanically kept loading the ship.

Jango Fett never particularly was a man of emotion.

"I'm always serious, Zam," He bluntly announced in a Concord Dawn accent, "I don't mess around."

He looked over at Zam and gave her what might have been a sly smile. It definitely looked like just a slight up turning of his lip. To Zam it was as good as a wide smile. What he said was true: he never really messed around or relaxed when it came to life-or-death situations.

It was all a matter of business - and business was sacrosanct to him. He had taken pride in building up his reputation as one of the galaxy's best bounty hunters. He had his own code of honor and woe befell anyone who would cross him. His enemies paid a heavy price for displeasing the Mandalorian bounty hunter and only the most daring of poor and pathetic souls really tested the infamous Jango Fett. If one truly was that oblivious a quick death at the hands of one of the greatest, if not the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy, was rather merciful from fate.

Finally, Jango had secured everything, and Zam threw her scant possessions sleeping quarters. Jango took his spot in the captain's seat, and Zam took her spot in the navigator's seat.

"Zam, lock in the co-ordinates for Kamino and jump to light speed," Jango blunted commanded while readying the weapons modules and deflector screens. It never paid to be lax about security. He decided never to prey: always the predator.

Zam acknowledged him with a slight nod and programmed the navi-computer for the aquatic world.

"Co-ordinates are set and ready for light-speed," Zam announced. She had just finished setting the last numbers to the on-board computer and she relaxed as the streaking lights of entering hyperspace enveloped the forward screens.

'I hope that this isn't a total waste of my time...' Jango thought, 'time is money.' Just as the couple headed into light speed, the battled-tested Mandalorian remembered he had planned something. He had promised Zam some military-grade contraband for her assistance, but he forgot to bring the fierfeking weapon. He set the auto-pilot and ran for his cabin, muttering something about checking his account for the credits he was promised. He reached his quarters, and did just that.

"Good," he muttered objectively. Loosing credits was frankly bad, not as bad as what happened to whoever lost them, but still bad.

For a minute or two he found himself in an uncharacteristic panic as he thought about how he would replace the contraband. He frantically searched throughout his cabin, tossing personal items and ship's stores every which way. He stopped and mentally berated himself as he remembered yet again that he always kept anything useful or special in the footlocker beside the door. Crouching in front of the specially designed locker, he carefully manipulated the lock to its proper configuration; anyone who did not know exactly how to open the booby-trapped locker, would soon find themselves alone in a vacuum. Apparently it was dangerous to interfere even with Jango Fett's privacy. The explosives embedded in the case would ensure that nothing remained of the room.

Carefully he opened the lid and reached into the locker. Pushing aside some extra gauntlets and a couple of old data pads filled with sensitive information that he was going to sell, he found what he was looking for. He withdrew a small velvetta box and opened it up. Nestled inside was a beautiful laser-cut gold ring. Inscribed on the inside of the ring was Zam's name.

Jango Fett was never one for emotion. Actually he really was never sure why he had that made. Yet everyone, even kriffin' Jedi had moments of emotion.

Gathering up all his courage, which seemed easier when he was being shot at as compared to now, he left his cabin and headed where he knew Zam would be. Sitting in the navigator's seat she was running diagnostics on the boards, too caught up in her calculations to notice anything around her. Watching her make a small correction, he thought, 'This might be easier than I thought'. Jango walked in and placed a hand on her shoulder.

He was totally blasé as she jumped up in stunned fright as she instinctively pawed for a blaster. Jango, true to form, was completely unfazed by this display as Zam realized the hand on her shoulder was owned by Jango. "Aaahhh! Oh, Jango, it's just you!" She held a hand to her chest theatrically.

"No it was the Bando Gora," Jango wryly announced.

Threatening Jango with a hit upside his head, Zam noticed that he had kept a hand behind his back. That was uncharacteristic of Jango. Any confrontations, be them friendly or not, he always was poised for attack and battle. Concealing a hand where there was not a blaster was not tactically adept. Her curiosity peaked, Zam inquired, "What's behind your back, Jango?"

Jango replied coldly, "Remember the Vosa bounty?"

"Do I want to?" Zam grumbled before adding, "We got fierfeked, you saved my life. How could I not forget it? You were at least half dead by the time I got there and saved me, after I shot your binds to the cross-like table you were strapped to then I started shooting the damn Jedi...then you saved me from a horrible death - just by doing what your instincts told you to: Blast the damn Jedi! I'll never forget that sentence you said to me."

Jango nodded silently. That bounty was surely one of the more interesting ones he had embarked upon. The memory of the misadventure came flooding back into his mind…

Vosa says while leaning threateningly over a captive Jango,"Now, tell me...who hired you?"

Jango struggled and growled, remembering what the Jedi had done to him and his fellow Mandalorianss on Gilidraan. The persuasion of the mad priestess was not going to break him.

Vosa lets out a rather perturbing chuckle while muttering, "Ah...a strong, silent type...I like that, more of a challenge...this'll be easier than I expected."

Meanwhile, Zam stealthily slithered into room and disguises her presence behind a pillar, pistol drawn and ready for use, and cautiously observes what the crazed Jedi was doing to Jang while a piece of her suit rubbed the permacrete creating a scratchy alarm for the maniac.

Vosa turning her head towards the noise inquires villainously, "Care to join us?"

Zam mentally scolds herself and comes into the view of the dar'jetii, points her pistol towards Vosa and then towards Jango and he takes a deep breath, while Vosa, deciding to toy with the Clawdite, decides not allowing her two Bando Gora thugs execute the female Clawdite: her mistake. Zam took the opportunity to blast the duo in their chests before aiming directly at Vosa.

Vosa growled with hatred and drew her lightsabers; Zam smirked with over-confidence and started blasting at the crazed Jedi. Quickly, the over-confidence faded and evolved into a subtle panic as Vosa had easily parried the shots, and silently decreeing the bounty hunter had to die. As Wesell fires the final blast from her pistol Vosa deflected the blast directly into Zam's shoulder.

Zam gets hit by the ricochet and with energy slowly draining from her body, she lines up a blast at Jango's binds. The Mandalorian takes a short moment to prepare for the coming duel, a preciously short moment, then as if he was on auto-pilot, swiftly recovers his blasters from the table they were on and begins blasting away in a display befitting a true warrior as he drives off Vosa.

"Looks like she's all yours Jango...we're even now," Zam weakly announces.

"Save your strength," Jango ordered while carefully laying Zam onto the hard permacrete floor, "Stay here."

He grabbed his jetpack and thrust it on, slid his blasters into their holsters and equipped the awe inspiring helmet of a son of Mandalore as he said, "Back in a minute." The menacing voice held a determined will-power willing to strike down anything in his path. Mandalorians don't leave their enemies alive.

The rest is, as one might say, history. The infamous Jango Fett defeated the Bando Gora cult and their deranged Dark Jedi. He also acquired a unique employment opportunity as well. Of course, the pay was good, and that's all that ever mattered.

Zam said as Jango returned to reality, "Ah, saving me from dying was oh so sweet of you, but all you needed to do was to use your flamethrower to deep fry her."

The bounty hunter nodded, "True, but that's the easy way," Jango looked particularly pleased with himself. Then he added, "Zam...can I ask you something else?"

She replied, "What is it, Fett? What's going on?"

Jango gathered all his courage and then asked, "Would you marry me if I asked you?"

Zam was stunned...she hadn't expected Jango to ask that sort of question just then, or ever. Jango Fett showing emotion?

This was the quintessential sign of the apocalypse.

Shaking her head, she said, "I might...yes. I would."

Jango pulled his hand out from behind his back, kneeled and then asked, "Zam Wesell, will you marry me?"

Zam says with delight, "of course I will!"

Jango said, "Well here's how mandalorians marry...now repeat after me: Mhi soulus tolm, Mhi soulus dar'tolm, Mhi me'dinui an, Mhi ba'juri verde."

Zam tried to repeat, "Mee soulass tolum, Mee soulass dar'tolum, Mee," she noticed a slight wince as she butchered the pronunciation, "Well it's the concept that matters."

"I suppose," Jango stated and put the nice-cut gold ring onto her ring finger before Zam asked, "that's it?"

Jango replies,"elek, that's it cyar'ika."Just then, the navicomputer started beeping frantically which meant that meant that the planet was near and as the captain of the ship, Jango, pulled the fire-spray class ship to regular flight speed and proceeded down planet-side to Kamino...

Once planet-side Jango met with the prime-minister, Lama Su and discussed the procedure for the cloning program.

"I believe that clarifies our responsibilities to you as the template. Do you agree with our terms Jango Fett?"The prime-minister said and Jango replied, "Yeah, yeah, I agree."

The prime minister said, "We shall begin when you're ready, bounty hunter. I assure you, you will be most pleased with your army."

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Cloning begins

We have the 2nd chapter of "Sw:Aliit ori'shya Tal'din" enjoy, and I will put up a mando'a glossary for anyone who isn't fluent in it at the end of the chapter. **MAJOR REDO ON THE CHAPTER! IF NEW READER, THEN PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE NOTE. THANK YOU.**

Jango and Zam made their way to the apartment that the xenophobic cloners had found it prudent to set up for him, yet they didn't seem to know that Zam was going to be staying with Jango as there were lodgings only for one.

Apparently the Kaminoans were rather unlearned on the concept of guests or families living together. Courtesy apparently was not something the cloners were fond of.

Jango says while looking at the life-less, color-less walls of the small apartment and wryly observed, "Rather dull?"

Zam looks at the interior and agreed with Jango, the walls did a bit of decoration compared to blindingly shimmering white. That was a chore for later as currently they needed to investigate the rest of the apartment for bugs and anything that could be used to secretly store weapons and other possibly necessary contraband.

"So," Zam mused as she began adding a bit of flair to the interior, "Home Improvement time?"

"Oh joy," Jango replied as he tossed her a holographic image which when placed projected an image of Mandalore the Preserver upon a wall.

"Like this," she says with a wolfish grin as she displayed it against a wall, "Like this?" She just seemed to be able to do just about anything, well almost anything, she had once interfered with Jango's ability to collect a bounty, but overall Zam was rather reliable. As Zam was finishing up in the main room, Jango takes a look around his new apartment and finds what would be his son's room, unsurprisingly inefficient to raising a child, but regardless he takes some small blankets and sheets for his son to sleep peacefully on the make-shift bed the Kaminoans installed.

While Jango was occupied with such, Zam went looking for their room and she found it next to the kitchen.

_Hmmm...I wonder what the fish eat, _Zam thought while her stomach, the second organ which most sentient beings thought with after their brains and before a third organ that varied upon gender, growled her to investigate the food supplies.

She opens the fridge only to find that there's no food in i: of course. Then she's startled by Jango...again as she jumps in startled fear,"Ahhhhhh!"

"Zam, it's only me," Jango says to calm her down.

"Sorry. I guess I'm still not over the Bando Gora yet."

"Jedi cultists have that effect on people."

"Don't worry, I'll get over it soon."

"I figure I should report to the cloners, soon. The faster we get this business done, the faster I get paid."

Kamino never particularly changed. It was always wet and raining. Indoors was always pristinely white. The natives seemed to only be suitable for tatsushi and nothing more. Yes, the world seemed to be kept constant regardless. It was probably simply because the world's inhabitants enjoyed such uniformity and controlled variables.

To any being in the galaxy this utter uniformity was a new kind of irritant. Jango and Zam surely had learned this already despite their currently short residence upon the world. To be blunt, as he usually would be, Jango was rather relieved when he was requested to inspect plans for the army of his clones: it was something he knew better than the auretii.

Looking at the data before him, a detailed description disciplined fighting force with a precise accuracy that would be unrivaled on the battlefield, Jango grunted a low and perhaps sarcastic, "For the Republic. They'll win your war."

"Are you satisfied?" A lead scientist on the project, a particularly unfeeling Kaminoan named Ko Sai inquired.

"If the buyer is."

"Then we shall begin. I will require a DNA sample for the genome of the army." Jango simply grunted and outstretched his arm for them to take whatever samples they needed.

As the cloners began running tests and collecting DNA, Jango allowed his mind to wander, but only slightly. He had to keep part of his mind alertly focused; totally devolving into dreams of utopia was an easy way to die.

Of course, the thought of a galaxy with an unstoppable Mandalorian army and where the Jedi and Sith failed to drag everyone else into their chaotic crusades was indeed a pleasant thought, but not one Jango would dwell on much at the moment. He needed to make an army for the Republic, as Tyrannus had recruited him for on Bogdan, and Fett would make that army.

After a few moments Jango realized the scientist Ko Sai had attempted to begin a conversation, albeit, not a friendly one. It was a simple one of business and scientific fact, with the scientist fawning over the achievements of an excellent specimen and perhaps bragging, if the alien species was capable of bragging, about the efficiency of the army. Jango simply listened silently, not particularly wanting to converse with Ko Sai.

Anyone who simply thought a Mandalorian warrior was a "specimen" clearly did not understand the ways of Mandalore.

"There could of course be mutations," the scientist dryly muttered on, "but we could deal with such accordingly."

"Fine," Jango grunted, unsure if he wanted to understand what accordingly meant.

"May I inquire as if we can run further tests? We are fascinated by human biology. To be quite frank, we are somewhat unfamiliar with human anatomy. It is quite ironic considering your species' abundance in the galaxy, that we are unaware of how you function."

"Do I get paid for this?" Jango stated bluntly.

"Of course."

"Test away."

"Excellent," the scientist answered as they performed a few more tests. As the cloner seemed sufficiently satisfied with the findings there was the declaration, "You are no longer required at the present moment. You are dismissed. We will summon you when your unaltered clone is properly prepared."

"Fine," Jango simply answered as he left the lab. He had business to maintain. Indeed the cloners intended to quickly grow an army, but that would leave them untrained, uneducated in the way of war. They would just be an army of nothingness that would win no battle and gain no glory on the fields of honor and battle.

The cloners could grow an army: they could not raise one.

Therefore Jango embarked on a mission: to unite Mandalorian veterans to fully unleash the might of the Grand Army of the Republic. They would teach far better than a scientist who did not know battle would. They would be called the Cuy'val Dar, and as the Kaminoans bred clones, the Cuy'val Dar would breed warriors.

Eventually the time came for Jango to meet the clone that was his "son". However when he had entered the laboratory when he had been summoned he found Zam already cradling a sleeping infant human in her arms.

"He looks like his father," Jango wryly mused as he stood next to Zam. Zam simply looked at him.

"Observant," she answered before looking back at the infant in her arms, "I also observed he doesn't have a name."

"You didn't think of anything?"

"I shoot things. I don't name them."

"Fine," Jango answered as he began thinking for a moment. There needed to be a strong name: a Mandalorian name. After a moment he stated, "Boba."

"Boba Fett? Doesn't sound half bad."

"Good," Jango stated.

"You want to hold him?" Zam asked. Jango silently looked at the infant before outstretching his arms and holding the sleeping infant close to him. Before this, Jango had only cared for a few things: money being the most obvious.

Now he had a son and his priorities had seemed to shift drastically.

"I think you two should have a moment alone," Zam stated as she realized an unnatural lack of utter efficiency and apathy in Jango's face, "just stay away from sarlacc pits."

Eventually, after some "bonding" with his new son, Jango had returned to his apartment and returned to business. Even with a son, Jango Fett was a man of business, and business never waited. He grabbed a datapad and scrolled through it, looking for a bounty that would be somewhat challenging, but rather simple to achieve. A stupidly simple bounty with nothing to gain was not worth the time of the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.

There is no honor earned lazing around in a pristine apartment. There is no honor gained bathing in endless cash while an army of clones fights battles. There is no honor in failing to challenge oneself. Jango Fett was a Mandalorian. Therefore he was a man of honor. A man of honor challenges himself with new battles and hunts. The one before him might be interesting.

Author's note:

Fin: for now. I think I'm startin' to get somewhere...More chapters on the way. K'oyaci mando'ade and Please review

Talyc parjai-Bloody victory

Ad'ika-little one (affectionate term)

Fierfeking-(same as last chapter)

Chakaare(pl)- Thief, b****, petty criminal, scumbag, b******, bugger, grave robber


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**24 BBY**

**Approximately 2 years before Geonosis… switch to 1****st**** person POV.**

* * *

"Oh," a voice sardonically observed as he awoke me, "Look who's finally awake."

"I don't want to be," I growled back roughly. My head still hurt as if a Rancor had collapsed on me, and I was still trying to regain focus. One glass of Ne'tra Gal always seems to become two, then three, then four, then five, and anyone reading this knows damn well where I'm going. Gingerly I began rubbing the back of my head as I solely sat up on the floor.

"Now, now," the man to whom the voice belonged to chided me condescendingly, "That's not something you should explain to the man who pays you."

"You aren't paying me anything."

"I don't pay people to sit around."

"So pay me to do something," I snarled as I stood up in a rather menacing posture. It was natural, I suppose. I'm a bounty hunter. I hunt things. I'm not talking about wild animals on the plains of Dantooine or anything like that. No, I hunt more dangerous prey. Prey worth tracking: prey that is the predators in their own ecosystems. That's a challenge. There's honor to be won in such combat. That's why I hunt bounties, not Bantha. There's honor in that fight. There's achievement in that victory. Sometimes, I'm the prey, but the adrenaline, the ecstatic thrill of battle, the glory of victory; it is so alluring, so appealing. I love it. Damn me, but I think I love it more than life itself.

There is a basic rule of being a bounty hunter: always be tough. Always look tough. Always act tough. Always be tough. Even when the enemy seems unstoppable, treat them as nothing but annoying insects. Another few rules of being a bounty hunter involve always getting the job done, and always listening to the client. Of course, sometimes, we're allowed to take a few liberties when clients refuse to pay us, but I'll spare any readers of a squeamish disposition what I call the juicier details of that. I'm sure there'll be a demonstration later.

"Now, that's more like it," the human, who apparently was my employer, muttered. I scanned his appearance. He was an unattractive man, rat-faced, of middle years where streaks of gray had begun lining his hair. He was not obese, and he did not appear particularly overweight, but it was obvious he was not a warrior, nor was he an athlete, nor was he physically fit in any form. A solid fist to his would likely incapacitate him. The glass of alcohol he had casually sipped from was a hint that he was more accustomed to luxury than practicality, to wealth rather than war. He is the type of man I despise, having others fight his wars as he is afraid of staining his shirt. Those men are cowards. Then again, I suppose without them, I would be unemployed. Doesn't mean I have to like them. I assure you, I don't.

"You see, bounty hunter," he explained as he sat behind a desk. I noted we were in his office. There was probably a safe behind the alien painting hung behind his desk. There were potted plants arranged around the room: probably for some sort of surveillance system. I did not notice any windows, and all the light was artificial, which was probably a wise move, assuming someone had tried to kill him. If he had to hire me, someone definitely had, and almost succeeded. "I am in need of some assistance."

"Just get to the point." I hissed. Time is a precious resource. I don't want to waste time when a target can be moving, disappearing.

"I like your thinking bounty hunter," he deviously uttered as he reached into his desk and removed a datapad. He tossed it to me, clearly too lazy to get up and walk it to me. Regardless, I caught it easily.

"Everything you need to know will be on there."

"And the credits?" I asked. It's always important to know about the pay in these sorts of transactions. It's a good lesson to learn, before it's too late.

"All in due time, bounty hunter," he cackled, "All in due time."

I nodded silently, and strode proudly out of the office. I began looking at the file. Information is priceless, except to information brokers who barter it for a price. They're fools and idiots, and once they give up that information, they generally give up their usefulness. No one deserves to live if they don't have their uses. No one can allow the competition find out what happened. It is, quite literally, a cut throat business.

There was some information that was rather generic and unimportant for my mission. I don't waste time on the dull stuff I've heard five million times before. What I actually want to know is about the target. One needs to learn how the target acts. Where the target travels. What the target believes in. Who the target loves. All these details are necessary, advantages to be exploited for victory. Every miniscule detail can be of vital importance. I will take the file I had before me as an example.

A picture of the target was displayed: a good start. It revealed a fair skinned woman that looked human, a brunette who had her hair pulled back in a braid, a practical way befitting a warrior, with her features being completed with beautiful blue eyes. She was pretty, and as simplistically corny as that sounds, it was the simplest and nicest way to explain what I felt about her appearance. Sometimes, there are targets you don't want to maim, but those are rare. Most of them deserve to be maimed, but she seemed to be a rare exception. Of course, I wasn't focused on her appearance. It's just a distraction. I don't get distracted by women. I would be dead if I was some stupid Corellian smuggler who was more concerned with flirting than I was with security. It's why the Corellians I meet usually end up dead. Again, they probably deserve it.

Now, here is the lesson about paying attention to every detail. There was some information on the target. The information usually gives name, appearance, species, aliases, known associates, etc, etc.

Species: Unknown

There was a picture of the woman. She looked like a human in her early twenties. So how the fierfek does the species get put down as unknown? Something was amiss. Anyone but an idiot could realize that. I read the whole file over. Apparently an idiot had compiled it. Personally, I'd shoot the idiot who was supposed to gather this information. Why? He did a bad job, it's that simple. He needed to give me detail on every aspect of this woman's life. It will keep me alive. I knew this would not be a simple shoot first and ask questions later type mission. That's actually what I like about this job; sometimes it can be wonderfully simple. Other times, it is way more convoluted than it has to be. Briefly, this was the rest of the file.

Name: Tawny

Species: Unknown

Gender: Female

Alias: N/A

Bounty: 5,000 Dead, 15,000 Alive

That was all. I _will_ shoot the idiot who "complied" this. All he could have compiled was a name and a gender. That's pathetic. I suppose I'm going off topic though. I have little patience for imbeciles who cannot do the simplest jobs.

Then I, finally, came across something useful. She was a Senator's "aide". I presumed that meant mistress. Either way it would prove an exciting challenge. If she was indeed a mistress, I could blackmail the senator, turn her in for the bounty anyway, and ruin his life. It's important to take opportunities as they arrive. If she was indeed an aide, I think she's a naïve fool, but the few competent senators favor aides who can use a blaster. Either Senate guards or a competent warrior would await me. Further inspection revealed she was believed to have contacts on Tatooine. Tatooine meant she was a warrior. I must admit was excited by the coming prospects. This should be exciting.

Then I decided to see if there was any other information on that datapad that might prove to be relevant. Many times, there will be. This job, it requires exacting attention to detail. A seemingly trivial detail can be the difference between success and failure. Everything is suspect. Nothing can be trusted. Anything encrypted definitely holds a secret. When I found encrypted data within the information I had been supplied, I knew I had found something important.

I tried to slice through the encryption who knows how many times, never meeting with any success. Bounty hunting involves many talents. I tone many abilities, having a set of skills for whatever is required. Whatever. Is. Required. Slicing is one I need more practice on. Finally I decided to use a computer spike on the damned datapad and unlocked all the classified files. I expected something intriguing. What I found certainly was.

The first file I found was on me.

Me? What the fierfek did I do? Was my employer just paranoid? Was there some possibility I had not fathomed? Regardless, I found myself looking at a picture of myself.

Description: Steelish-blue eyes, Caucasian, Brown hair.

The picture showed a face that was clean shaven, clear of scars... but the shape of the face seemed familiar... I considered turning around, storming into my employer's office once more, and demanding to know why the hell he had a file on me. Then I would crush the life out of him. Sometimes, I enjoy getting a live punching bag. Except at this moment, it seemed like bad business. I will not ruin the economy.

Besides, I realized, I couldn't remember anything about myself. Maybe I hadn't just drunken myself unconscious, and maybe I hit my head a lot harder than I thought. I couldn't remember anything. This is a dangerous precedent, one I am very glad I have never repeated since. It almost got me killed, and I was extremely fortunate. The blunt truth: I had no idea what happened. I needed answers, answers, I decided, should be in that file.

Name: N/A

Well, that's helpful.

Species: Human

Homeworld: Kamino

Kamino? It was a backwater planet that wasn't even part of the Republic as far as I knew. There aren't many humans there anyway, and the natives weren't fond of foreigners. I figured it had to be some sort of mistake or misinformation. Feeding misinformation is a cowardly, yet useful strategy. Sometimes, one has to deliberately feed misinformation to gain an advantage. I figured this was one such instance.

Ni Mando'ade. I am Mandalorian. I know our culture. I know how to fight, and to fight with honor. Kamino is not a Mandalorian world. Perhaps I should investigate the planet, if time allows.

For the moment, Kamino was a distraction. Keep a calm and level head. Kamino appeared to be part of my past. That would interfere with the cool demeanor I would require. It would be best to collect the bounty and discover my past afterwards. I could still fight, as some will have the displeasure of learning. Then, after I collected, I would interrogate my employer for the information I required. I consider that good business.

I might have looked a bit perplexed and astounded as I inspected this file, but I immediately wiped any such emotion off my face, returning to the harsh glare of a hunter. Betray nothing or die. It's a simple choice. It was best I get moving, and approached my ship, the _Talyc Parjai._

It's a nice ship. I can assure you of that. Of course, the standard modifications simply did not do. So I modified it…heavily. Whether these modifications are legal or not…I suppose that depends on who you ask. It was a Fire-spray Patrol craft, much like Slave I. Like I said, it's a nice ship. The weapons I added it made flying quite enjoyable. However, beyond the modifications, I can't say I was rather invested in the décor or layout of the vessel. All the regular amenities and equipment on the ship was kept in its regular locations. Additionally, there were holding cells for "Live Prey" in case the bounty wanted the target alive or if torture was required into gathering the required information. Like I said, this job is rarely pretty. It's a necessity.

I entered the ship and immediately headed for the cockpit, plopping myself down into the pilot's seat. I piloted the ship out of the hanger and into orbit, surrounded nothing but the beautiful desolation of space. Immediately, I began punching in the co-ordinates for Tatooine then allowed auto-pilot to deal with the rest.

As the stars streaked past the cockpit, I leaned back in my chair, pensively rubbing my chin. Something didn't feel right.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," I muttered lowly. Still, perhaps I was a tad excited by this. Perhaps this misgiving was a thrill.

It would be a good hunt. A sly smirk found shelter on my face. It would be a good hunt, indeed. I knew it would be.

However, my thoughts were interrupted as I heard something clatter in the ship behind me. It sounded as if something had knocked around rations crates. Scowling, I grabbed a blaster and went to investigate the disturbance. I would shot whatever thought it could sneak aboard _my_ ship. I am rather…territorial…about such things.

In a deliberate slowness, I stood up from the pilot's seat, drawing one of my WESTAR-34s with a cold caution. I heard something rattle as whatever it was brushed against loose equipment. Whatever was on my ship certainly did not care to be subtle about anything. Perhaps it was attempting to frighten me. It was a fool for trying.

I gingerly marched through the ship, clutching my blaster. The ruckus continued. I soon found myself next to an overturned rations crate. I crouched down, investigating it. Whatever was on board clearly had tried to force the lock, but failed miserably, leaving very faint marks. As I investigated the crate, I overheard more sound nearby. The intruder was near. I clutched the blaster tighter, prepared to pull the trigger at a moment's notice. Realizing the intruder most likely was facing away from me, I knew the opportunity for attack had come.

Instantly I rolled from behind the cover, stopping on one knee, blaster held before me, aimed steadily at the figure I saw. I took little time focusing on the details. It was an intruder; not someone I was keen on making friends with. With the being in my blastersight, I realized I had trapped it.

"Stay put," I growled, "Or die."

I noticed the figure was trembling. I lowered the blaster, still holding it firmly in front of me, to better discern the being's features. The being was humanoid, rather short as well. It was most likely female, considering the length of her sandy colored hair. Alongside the trembling, I overheard a sniffle, a faint attempt to disguise fear. I grumbled as I holstered my blaster. The monster was nothing more than some scared kid, about five or six standard years old, that had somehow gotten aboard my ship.

"Never mind," I grunted as I stood up, "You're safe."

The child slowly turned around, facing me. It was indeed a human child, the last feature of note on her face being light brown eyes. The only other somewhat remarkable trait was a bandage wrapped around her upper left arm, below her shoulder. Nothing else seemed remarkable. I expected her to burst into tears and screaming, considering I had blood-splattered Mandalorian armor on. Whether that blood is real or fake, that's a question that'll be answered soon enough.

"You don't look like a lizard," the child innocently blurted out. The question seemed misplaced. The girl must have been expected me to be some reptilian species, such as a Barabel, or Trandoshan. Trandoshans…I hate Trandoshans.

I stepped towards the child, before standing before her, having her look up at me in awe. I crossed my arms as I inquired bluntly, "Mind telling me how you got onboard?"

She swallows nervously, now finally acting the way I expected. I do not look particularly friendly. I need to instill fear, and children are no exception. As she begins trembling again, her lower lip begins to quiver, and I noticed tears begin to well in her eyes.

This was going to be fan-fierfeking-tastic.

"Hey, hey," I tried to calm her before she begins screaming. I uncross my arms and kneel down so my face is level with hers, before removing my helmet. "I'm like you, ok? I won't hurt you. Understand?"

That seemed to calm the child marginally, as she nodded slowly, before wiping her eyes clear. She was still trembling, but at least she would not begin screaming. Now it was time I got answers. Even children know more than they realize.

"Why did you think I was a lizard?" I asked, with a bit more curiosity in my voice than I usually would have betrayed.

"My mommy said to run from a lizard if I saw one," she admitted.

"Why's that?"

"Do I look like I know poopy-brains?" She answered with more sass than I thought she was capable of. Apparently she had relaxed now that she knew I was human. Also, it appeared her attention had fallen lax as well, as she looked around the ship. "Your ship's ugly. You need more pink! And flowers!"

A snarl formed on my face. If she was not a child, I would have punched her. I don't care about interior design, and pink was not the color I'd choose anyway.

"Did you come on my ship because you saw a lizard?"

"Yeah!" she nodded eagerly as she returned my attention to me. "I followed you after I saw one!"

"Ok," I stated. Now I had some answers. Now to figure out to whom this kid belonged to so I could be rid of her for the rest of my life. "Do you have a name?"

She nodded, before asking, "What's yours?"

I paused for a moment. I didn't remember it. Maybe I did not have one? That sounded ridiculous. I paused, searching my memory for a name. After a few moments, I noticed the girl was giggling.

"What's funny?" I grumbled.

"You forgot your name," she giggled, clearly realizing my predicament. I growled once more.

"What if you forgot yours?"

"I didn't forget!" She defiantly yelled. "It's Lena!"

I smirked. She didn't want to tell me, but she had, and she didn't even realize it.

"Where are you from?"

"Coruscant," she answered. My smirk vanished. I had just departed Coruscant. I'd have to take her along for the hunt then. That was not a welcome prospect. An even less welcome prospect was when I heard her stomach growl. That explained why she had attempted to raid the rations crate.

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded silently, clutching her stomach. I stood up, motioning for her to follow.

"Let's see if we can find you something to eat."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

"Stay here," I ordered the little girl in an authoritative tone. I had no intention of losing a child on a planet full of scum and villainy. That is not something I want to explain.

"I wanna come…" the girl begged.

"No." I answered with blunt finality. I began setting the alarms and security of the ship, watching the child to ensure she did nothing to sneak past them as she had before.

"Why not?"

"Lizards," I stated with a sinister tone, "Big lizards."

Fortunately, that was possibly the only thing the child would avoid. I think she got the message, for once. As I finished setting the security, I departed the ship into the open air of the landing bay. Instantly, the planet welcomed me.

"I hate sand," I grumbled to myself as I felt something grate irritably against the skin of my arm. Even with the seal of my armor, it still found a way inside. Already, I couldn't wait to get off this damnable planet.

Tatooine: the planet no one ever wants to visit. Even less likable was the "venerable" Mos Eisely spaceport. If I had waited around the landing pads for an hour, I probably would have collected enough bounties to retire. Unfortunately, I had other things to focus on.

I marched through the streets of the settlement, scanning the world. Most of the inhabitants simply slouched along on some worthless existence, shifting from task to another without much purpose or excitement. Even a fully armored Mandalorian was not enough to evoke any interest. This dreary existence, pitiful as it was, was also very useful. The locals, accustomed to a bizarre array of visitors, paid absolutely no attention to even the most exotic passerby. However, those who had never set foot within the spaceport were instantly betrayed by their awe.

I had stopped outside a cantina for a moment, pausing to scan my surroundings. It was not long though, before I noticed once such sentient that was clearly foreign. It was a Pantoran, a light blue skinned-humanoid race, far more adapted to the cold than the heat. His astounded expression, in addition to the official looking black uniform with a red sash adorning the chest, which had been left open as he sought any relief from the heat, betrayed he was not a local. The natives adapted to the atmosphere of hell, and they certainly were not dressed in anything so ornate. Additionally, I noticed this man was clutching a satchel, flung over his shoulder, as he marched with a deliberate quickness. I immediately made to follow him. He constantly looked behind him and around him as moved, but it was pointless, he could not identify a trained stalker. How unfortunate for him.

Following along at some distance, I continued to follow the Pantoran. He was pitifully bad at this losing any pursuer, and it was rather easy to track him. The possibility it was too easy flicked through my head, but soon vanquished after he seemed to have gotten lost at one point on his journey. Eventually, he was capable enough to find his location near the edge of the city. It was a walled compound, with what appeared to be a lone entryway, a metal gate guarded by two humans. I could discern that, despite anything that may identify them, that they were both Senate Guards. They were too calm, too cool, too collected to be thugs or mercenaries. I took up a position scanning the wares of a vendor's stall nearby, glancing out of the corner of my eyes as the Pantoran approached the guards, while outwardly appearing to be admiring a fruit.

The guards demanded credentials from the Pantoran, which after some grumbling, he displayed. A displeased expression found itself on my face as they investigated him, realizing they did not intend to be lax about such. They allowed him to pass into the compound, before resuming their watch. Tricking them would be difficult, and beginning a gunfight would be unwise. I departed the stand, before making my way across the street, still scanning the walls of the compound. It was too high to mount on my own, but there were crates stacked against it to the left of the guards, which could be utilized as a way to climb over. I knew this would be my entry in.

I knelt down, as if I had dropped something, before scooping up a mixture of sand and rocks from the street. I turned, away from the compound, and walked around a building, before tracking back around the other side towards the compound. Between the building and the compound, the walls had created a bit of an alleyway. I could spy the guards standing watch, and I scurried towards the other side of the alley, now with my back pressed against the wall of the compound. Realizing I would have to move quickly, I took the rocks and sand still clutched in my hands, and chucked the debris against the wall of the compound, before kicking the structure for good measure. I then rushed back across the alleyway, concealing myself behind the building.

"You hear that?" One of the guards asked.

"Yeah," the other responded, "I did."

"We should go check it out."

"Agreed," the other answered as I heard footsteps marching towards me. The clock had begun ticking. I sprinted, back around the building, which fortunately for my purposes was taller than it was wider, coming towards the entryway once more. The gate was closed, but the crates were still stacked properly. I leapt onto one then propelled my way onto the other. Both of the guards had their backs to me, but I knew the distraction would only last for so long as they seemed to have realized nothing remained. I stretched up, grabbing the ledge of the wall with my fingers, before hauling the rest of my body over with a grunt as I flung my weight over into the compound. I grunted again as I clattered onto the ground, but the loose sand on the ground concealed most of the noise of my landing. Good.

I returned to my feat, to find I was in another alley, this one far tighter, but still enough to fit in. I drew my blaster, and continued walking in against the wall, away from the gate towards the corner. I reached the corner, and turned it, before I came to an opening. I stopped as I reached the opening, peaking out into what was a plaza with a moisture vaporator on each side of the plaza. The compound must have been a large rectangle containing four buildings within the walls, and this plaza was the center. There were two beings, the Pantoran, who still looked miserable in the heat as he had begun to slouch forward with his back facing towards me, and beyond him was a woman with brown hair pulled back into a braid, and deep blue eyes: my target. I smirked, as I concealed myself fully once more. The Pantoran fool had done my job for me. I drew both WESTARs, waiting for the proper opportunity to strike.

"Why did you insist on meeting on Tatooine," the Pantoran grumbled, "We could've just as easily have met in a world within the Republic that had a more hospitable climate…"

"With the Separatist crisis," the woman answered, "We have to be careful. Do you have the file Senator Brun needs or not?"

"I do," the Pantoran answered, "I just don't know why he wants Trade Federation financial logs, and why he couldn't request them through official means…"

"Trust me this way is better," she responded, "Now hand over the files…"

"Hand over those files and your dead," I growled as I emerged from my location, marching forward with blasters raised at both beings. "Hands. Air. Now."

The Pantoran turned around and immediately complied: coward. The woman, the one that actually had any information, looked at me with more curiosity and less intent to comply. She certainly was a warrior. The concept of a coming battle was exciting my senses.

"W…we are employed b…b…by the Republic Senate," the Pantoran immediately began babbling, "Harming us will…"

"No one cares out here," the woman interrupted. The Pantoran glanced at her, terrified shock on his face.

"Don't yell for the guards either," I ordered.

"Don't need to," she replied.

"Hands up," I ordered again. I then motioned to the Pantoran. "Or I'll take whatever your senator wants."

"It's all public record…" the Pantoran stated before I glared at him.

"Shove it." That shut him up. Still the woman seemed to be rather uncooperative.

"You don't care about that," she observed.

"I care about money."

"We can pay more."

"I have a reputation."

"And what's that?" She retorted, crossing her arms. Clearly, she was in no mood to co-operate. I stood silently for a moment. My mind does not fabricate lies that quickly, I am more a man of action. In this case, my delay proved to her I had no reputation. I do, I can assure anyone who's stupid enough to find out, but not one I could recall at the time. "Do you even know who your target is?"

"You."

"Am I?" She answered with a sarcastic skepticism. It didn't fool me. "Do you even know my name?"

"Tawny," I grunted, patience wearing thin.

"Or why I'm wanted?"

"I don't care."

"There's a bounty on you?" The Pantoran interjected, looking at his comrade. She waved his concerns away.

"You don't remember anything," she declared, before asking with a bit more tenderness, "Do you?"

"I don't need to," I hissed, noting I could lose control of this situation.

"I can offer you a deal," she stated, "If you let me return to Coruscant, I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"And how can you do that?" I chucked sardonically, not believing a word.

"I work for a senator," she stated with a sly smirk, "And I know your name, hunter." She then shrugged, "But if you want to shoot me, go ahead. You'll never know."

"W…wait!" The Pantoran panicked at this idea. "D…don't shoot!"

I stood silent, emotion concealed behind the visor of my helmet. Normally, I would have shot her, despite the fact she was worth more alive, except she seemed unnervingly confident, a confidence that forced me to hesitate.

It was a mistake.

Immediately a blaster shot rang out, striking the Pantoran in the back. He crumpled to the ground, dead, before I raised my blasters to the roof of the building the shot had begun from. I saw the hulking form of a reptilian species leap down. I tracked it with searing plasma, failing to make any actual contact. I cursed as he landed between the target and the wall, using her as cover and leverage. She immediately went to draw her blaster, but he swatted it aside. He lashed out again for her to duck away and deliver a firm blow to his snout. He backed away, yelping in pain, before lunging at her once more, grabbing her by the throat and flinging her aside with ease. Then as his reptilian eyes met mine, a scowl formed on my face.

He was Trandoshan: a particularly infamous hunter named Bossk. He has no honor, and deserves to die. I wanted nothing more than to kill him, and he would certainly not claim _my _bounty. I began to fire rapidly at his position, only for him to dive away and begin bounding towards me. I tracked him with my fire once more, but he weaved past, until he leapt on top of me, knocking and pinning me to the ground. He savagely stretched my left arm out, before biting, yes, biting, through the armor. I yelled in agony, before delivering another blow with my free arm which sent him tumbling off me. I looked over at my wounded arm, which had now turned the sand below it red. I began to my feet once more, my wounded arm hanging limply, only to be met by a kick from Bossk which knocked me to the ground once more.

He began to leer over me, savoring his victory and my coming demise.

"Itsss over hunterrrr," he hissed as he drew his blaster once more, only to be interrupted by the sound of a jetpack roaring to life. The Trandoshan looked up, only to be brutally slammed into by a hurling figure in Mandalorian armor. The two bodies went soaring in different directions as they untangled themselves with blows, until they were facing each other, each one kneeling on one knee. Bossk looked odiously towards the Mandalorian figure.

"Fett," he hissed. The Mandalorian raised his head, the emotionless gaze of his helmet returning a cold stare as the hunter nodded once. Then, in a swift jerk of a motion, the Mandalorian raised his wrist, firing a projectile towards the Trandoshan. Bossk dove to avoid the strike, but it exploded on impact with the ground, kicking up sand wildly and, as the screech of pain from the Trandoshan suggested, made contact. The Mandalorian ignited his jetpack once more, scattering more sand into the air, before streaking after his enemy.

Normally, I would have remained to finish the lizard myself. However, these were both competitors for a bounty in a location that had become a bit too crowded for my taste. Furthermore, I noticed my target had returned to her feet, grabbed the satchel the dead Pantoran had brought, and was scurrying out of the compound. Despite my wounded arm, which was still bleeding, I collected my blasters and made chase. Outside the compound, I found the gored corpses of the two guards. Bossk had relied on stealth far less than I had apparently. I charged after her, weaving my way through sentients of various sorts and appearances, focusing on one person and one person only. She must have realized she was being followed, as she weaved through the crowd, nearly losing me on a few occasions. The key word there was "nearly." Even, at a fair pace and interfering with disgruntled aliens of a seemingly violent disposition, not that I remained to find out, I kept up the chase.

Still tracking the target, I found her disperse within a group of Wookiees. I grumbled an expletive as she pushed her way through, realizing that the large girth of the furballs would conceal her briefly, but it could be enough time to escape. I began to rush past the Wookiees, only to find no trace of her. I cursed again. I had lost the target.

Or so I had thought. The Wookiees soon decided to leave, and revealed something I had yet to notice in the pursuit: they blocked an alleyway. A smirk found a way onto my face. The hunt was not over, far from it. It was clever of Tawny, she had almost lost me. However, again, the key word is "almost."

Drawing one blaster with my uninjured arm, I cautiously began walking down the alley, the shadows of the buildings creating a dimly lit pit. As I proceeded down, I realized a wall blocked the end of the alley, and, in front of that wall I found a humanoid figure.

"You lose," I declared with a snarl. Tawny looked at me, blinking once. I think she was surprised to see I hadn't given up the hunt.

"You're persistent," she admitted.

"Move," I motioned with my blaster for her to walk in front of me.

"Do you ever speak in complete sentences?"

"No."

"My offer stills stands," she stated, "Your memory for passage back to Coruscant."

"Not good enough."

"You'd rather be a mindless slave just to collect a bounty? You'd rather than having an identity?"

"You lie." I stated coldly, trying to conceal any nerves I might have shown. Of course I would rather have an identity, living as a free man instead of a pawn in another's game. However, I also knew, most of those promises were empty ones.

"You assume too much."

"Prove it."

"I doubt you're one to believe me."

"My name," I growled, "Tell me it."

"You really forgot that too?" She asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

"Give me an answer."

"It's Sev," she stated, rather casually, "Honestly, that isn't difficult to find. How the hell did you miss it?"

Sev: something about that seemed familiar. I suppose I knew intuitively it was correct. How did she know it? More importantly, how did she know what I did not? Perhaps there was more value in her offer of information than I had initially believed. She had something valuable, something I couldn't ignore.

"Follow," I ordered, holstering my blaster. I noticed a satisfied look on her face as I turned to leave. Soon afterwards I heard her footsteps following behind. Indeed, she did have valuable information, information I would get: one way or another.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

"I see interior decorating isn't a hobby of yours," Tawny commented as she followed me onboard the ship.

"There a problem?" I grunted in reply.

"Not if it flies."

"It does," I answered bluntly before I began marching towards the cockpit. I couldn't wait to get off this sandy wasteland. Besides, I didn't want any rival hunters chasing after me, especially with my arm still wounded. The bleeding had stopped, but it still hurt like hell. Fortunately, I kept medical supplies on the ship. It always was useful to be prepared. Then I heard footsteps in the ship. Good, the kid was still here.

"Visitors?" Tawny asked, before her hand began towards her blaster pistol. I shook my head.

"I took on another meaningless life form," I replied.

"That seems out of character."

"It is," I answered as the child walked into view. She seemed oblivious to our return. Tawny paused for a moment, her hand dropping away from her blaster. Apparently she was expecting something that would try to have killed her.

"Lena?" Tawny muttered, looking rather surprised to see the child.

"She yours?"

"A friend's," she answered, before the child turned to face Tawny.

"Tauntaun!" Lena yelled, wiggling eagerly as she recognized Tawny. Tawny knelt down, to be closer to the child's height as she ran toward us and embraced Tawny. I smirked condescendingly towards Tawny. She looked back at me with an unamused glare.

"What?"

"Tauntaun?" I repeated with disbelief.

"You have a problem with that?"

"It sounds ridiculous." Tauntauns are not exactly feared beasts. They're cuddly mounts. No self-respecting warrior would dare to choose such a moniker.

"You got anything better?"

"Anything's better."

"How would you know?"

"How'd you get a name like Tauntaun?"

"She had trouble with syllables when she was learning to speak," Tawny explained, "she could understand, 'Tawn', but not 'nee', and Tawny became Tauntaun to her. Guess it stuck."

"That all?"

"Well, she also slept in my armor one night because she said it was warm inside, but yeah, more or less." Finding armor cozy in addition to being able to sneak past security systems intent on vaporizing any intruder, the kid was more resourceful and capable than I thought. She acted like a Mandalorian child, not some pampered brat. I suppose one could say I was growing somewhat fond of the child.

"How'd she get on board?"

"Snuck past the alarms," I explained. Tawny looked at the child incredulously, as if she couldn't believe it either. Meanwhile, the child simply remained standing there, as if she was oblivious to the entire discussion.

"Now how did she do that?" Tawny muttered.

"I don't know."

"I guess the bigger question is why."

"She's afraid of lizards," I stated.

"Well, she's afraid of Bossk," Tawny answered, still clutching the little girl.

"Most people are," I grunted. Of course Bossk would be the one to kill a child unnecessarily on a hunt. More gruesomely, he'd eat the corpse.

"Most people are right in that case."

"They are," I answered, looking down at my wounded arm. The puncture marks of the Trandoshan's teeth remained. It was a nasty wound, from a savage beast. I would avenge this wound in a way more befitting a warrior, a way of honor. Then I'd rip the lizard's teeth out for good measure. "I'll be right back," I informed Tawny and Lena as I grabbed the medical supplies and continued towards the cockpit. Plopping into the seat, I put the ship into a high orbit around the planet, before tending to my wounds. Despite the pain even the slightest brush against the laceration, I bandaged it properly. It still was sore, that was something I was certain would last for a few weeks, however, now I didn't have to worry about it bleeding out, and I could make sure the blood on my armor wasn't my own. That would be unpleasant, to say the least.

I was about to leave the cockpit, before Tawny walked into the cockpit with the satchel she had picked up on Tatooine still slung over her shoulder. I had begun to grown intrigued by whatever content was contained inside. The Pantoran from Tatooine had said it was Trade Federation financial logs, but there had to be more to it than simply that. I had assumed the Senate wanted to catch them violating some tax law, but assumptions are dangerous in this line of work. There had to be something more. Besides, any idiot could catch the Trade Federation skimping out on their taxes.

"Where's the kid from?" I inquired.

"Coruscant," Tawny answered, "And that's where we're heading anyway."

"Fine," I nodded. Coruscant: it was my destination as well. I'm not sure if I believe in some all unifying mystical energy called the Force, but I can say, in my experiences, some things work out to be awfully convenient. As I input the co-ordinates for the Republic capital, I noticed Tawny had finally parted with the satchel and had laid it against some of the control panels. Good: she had assumed too much.

"It'll be a long trip," I stated as I stood up from my seat. "You might want a place to rest."

"I could," she confessed, a bit of skepticism in her voice. Wisely, she did not trust me completely.

"If I wanted you dead," I grunted, "I would have done it already."

"I'm flattered," she sarcastically responded. I suppose she must have been a bit fatigued, considering the fact she then decided to follow me out of the cockpit. Soon, I had led her towards a compartment with a rag on the ground, but beyond that no amenities of any sort. It was rather cramped and would most certainly be uncomfortable. I stopped, before she walked past me inside the cell.

"Not exactly roomy," she commented.

"It isn't supposed to be," I commented, before I pressed a button outside the cell. Tawny turned around to face me, only to be met with the rapidly closing cell door. As it locked between us, her securely inside the holding cell while I was rather satisfied with my latest capture, she glared spitefully at me.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," I replied. I still had a job to do, and now, my target had quite literally walked into a holding cell. She made two mistakes. One: she trusted a bounty hunter. Two: She gave up information I needed. Truthfully, I had never particularly cared to assist her in returning to Coruscant, my employer was there, and that was where he wanted her delivered. The fact she wanted to go there was, as I said already, added convenience.

"We had a deal…"

"I made a deal saying I'd bring you to Coruscant dead or alive," I explained, "Before I made a deal with you."

"You don't want to figure out who you are, where you came from?"

"You'll tell me," I shrugged before adding sinisterly, "One way or another."

"Sev…"

"Goodbye," I turned to leave. She snarled.

"You son of a…"

"Uh uh uh," I turned back towards her, condescendingly waving a finger, "Not in front of the child."

"I swear," she growled through gritted teeth, "When I get out of here I will gut you like…"

"You can try," I answered as I turned away, walking towards the cockpit. Nearly instantly she began screaming protests at me. Protests I ignored.

"Sev! You bastard! Get me kriffin' out of here! Fierfeking bastard! C'mon you greedy son of a Hutt let me out! I'll kriffin' kill you! Sev?! Get your sorry rear back here! You kriffin' bastard!"

This continued, to the point of hoarseness, and I learned several new expletives that day. I think the kid learned all of them that day. Still, I didn't mind the yelling. I considered it the sound of a job well done.

Inside the cockpit I grabbed the satchel she had brought onboard and then emptied it to find a datapad. I instantly began reading it. It was mostly financial statements for the Trade Federation. They were, generally speaking, boring audits. They were clearly cheating on their taxes; that was certain. I didn't care about though. What intrigued me, and what must have intrigued Tawny, were some rather large expenses on mercenaries, armaments, battle droids, and other military equipment, military equipment which they were banned from compiling after their invasion of Naboo. Now, I should have turned this over to the Senate immediately, but I felt I had plenty of employment if I kept this secret. There was a crisis brewing that threatened to rip the Republic in two, and I have to admit, I was excited. It would be good hunting.

However, there was another file which had nothing to do with the Trade Federation. Additionally, it had been buried within other information, in a deliberate attempt to conceal it. I was automatically suspicious. I read it.

_Location: Kamino_

Kamino? That backward? The world that was supposedly my homeworld? What did Kamino have to do with the galaxy? There was something oddly disturbing about the frequency in which that world seemed to appear on this hunt.

_Subject: Clone Army_

_Status: Currently in-training. Not Ready for Deployment._

_Origin: Unknown _

_Purpose: Unknown, Suspected for the Republic, Senate believed to be Unaware of existence._

_Notes: Too little Information to act. Keep this information restricted. No legitimate organization knows of this army's existence. Keep it that way._

And now, what had been a somewhat simple and straightforward bounty had evolved into galactic intrigue. Oh joy. I wondered if Tawny, who was still screaming at me, even knew what information she had. I put the datapad back into the satchel. However, as I was doing so, I noticed Lena squatting in the corner, hands covering her ears.

"Why is Tauntaun so loud?" She asked, clearly bothered by the constant yelling, as she uncovered her ears.

"Tauntaun is a bad girl," I answered bluntly.

"Mommy said Tauntaun was really nice…"

"Mommy got tricked."

"Tauntaun's always been really nice," she countered. I grumbled something incoherent under my breath.

"Does Tauntaun sound nice right now?"

Lena silently shook her head.

"Tauntaun made a Wampa very angry," I explained, noting the ridiculousness of my tone. Tauntaun? For the Force's sake, she couldn't have let any other damn nickname stick? "Now you shouldn't talk to Tauntaun, or else you're in big trouble. Ok?"

The child nodded silently once more.

"Good," I grunted, glad that interaction was over. I walked back to the pilot seat. I noted that I could use some rest. I bowed my head, helmet still on, before beginning to fade off to sleep. Tawny had continued to hurl verbal insults from the holding cell, but I personally found it a rather soothing lullaby. I would be called worse things on my travels. Right now, I could safely consider it a job well done.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I awoke in orbit around Coruscant, as I felt the cold barrel of a blaster pressed against the back of my neck.

"That little…" I growled.

"If you hurt her," Tawny's voice greeted me in the form of a growl, "I will kill you."

"Copikla," I snorted in Mando'a, or the Mandalorian language for those less familiar with it. For anyone familiar with the language, they can understand it was not my wisest choice of words.

"And I should probably kill you for saying that too, hut'uun."

"What did you just call me," I snarled, about to attack her in a fury, until she pressed the barrel of the pistol closer against me, reminding me who had control here.

"Now you're going to land, and you're going to let me go, understood?"

"You're gutsy," I admitted with begrudging respect as I began prepping for landing, "It won't help you."

"And you're persistent," she responded, admitting her own begrudging respect, "But I still got away."

"We'll see about that."

"I doubt it," she replied, "Just go where I tell you and everything should be alright."

"If I don't?"

"I don't need you to fly this ship."

"Shall we find out?"

"Only if you want to get shot."

The rest of trip was in relative silence, both of us too skeptical of each other to attempt any conversation. Besides, there isn't that much to discuss at gunpoint. It's a killer business. The only sort of conversation was the directions from Tawny. Apparently she had a rather specific location in mind. I piloted the descent down to the planet's surface, before landing in a rather unremarkable hangar.

"We're here," I grunted.

"Thank you," she replied, without any pleasantry or gratitude in her voice. I then felt the pressure of the barrel against my neck ease away as Tawny backed away. It was a prudent decision, without the pre-occupation of flying the ship, I would've taken the blaster from her, and, if I'm being honest, I would've killed her. It's that simple. I turned around in the pilot's seat, to find she still had the pistol leveled towards me. At least she wasn't stupid. I also noticed she had that satchel with the datapad flung over her shoulder.

"Lena's father works here," Tawny explained.

"You aren't gonna…"

"Good-bye," Tawny answered as she darted out of the cockpit. I swiftly grabbed my blaster, preparing to make chase. However, the damn kid stumbled in my way again. I snarled at the child.

"I'm only going to ask this once," I demanded as the child looked up at me, "Why did you let her go?"

"Tauntaun seemed lonely," Lena answered innocently. It was not an answer I was ready to hear.

"Tauntaun is a very bad person, do you understand? Tauntaun stole a lot of things from a lot of people." I could feel my anger rising. This child's naivety had just cost me a bounty. "Tauntaun is a criminal. Tauntaun is not a fierfeking cuddly animal! Tauntaun's a scumbag that needs to be locked up!"

With that outburst of fury, Lena began shaking again, and I noticed her eyes beginning to water up. I didn't particularly care if the kid cried. She had cost me a bounty, and if she wasn't a child I would've killed her already. I knew I should've put Tawny in a cell where I could restrain her in a place the kid couldn't reach. That way I wouldn't have lost the bounty, and I certainly would not have a screaming child on my ship.

"Cry. Won't change anything," I grumbled as I pushed past her, marching deliberately towards the ship's exit. The kid could find her parents on her own; I had my own person to hunt. I suppose, though, in hindsight, this wasn't as bad as I made it out to be. As I said before, bounty hunting is a challenge, it's a thrill. Tawny had certainly proven to be anything but a simple collection. Besides, with whatever information she had, whether she knew it or not, and I think she did, it had added a rather enthralling bit of intrigue. Indeed, it was a good hunt.

Perhaps that was the reason I changed my mind with the child. I was still furious at her, don't interpret my change of heart to a dulling of my fury, but I couldn't just abandon the kid. Sighing, wondering if I had become rather too forgiving. I turned around and returned to where the kid was still crying.

"Hey, quiet down," I tried reasoning with the kid, who was, rather obviously uncooperative. "Shh…shh…undesii…I'm not going to hurt you." Apparently something got through to the kid, as what was once loud and obnoxious screaming became shaking and sniffling. I sighed as I removed my helmet, realizing a human face would probably calm her more quickly than a blood splattered helmet would. "See, everything's alright. Now, I heard your father's here, would you like to go see him."

She looked at me skeptically. I wasn't entirely surprised that she was hesitant to trust me. I had, after all, screamed my head off at her five minutes ago. I stretched out a hand. "C'mon kid, let's get you home."

"Are you mad at me?" She asked. I stood silently, hand still outstretched. I was furious, but I couldn't exactly tell her that.

"Let's get you home," I repeated, putting my helmet back on, before taking the kid by her hand. I was surprised how tightly she clutched it, nearly ripped my finger off. I began through the hanger, until I found a human mechanic on break.

He was asleep. Clearly he hadn't had much rest recently. He looked to be in about his mid-thirties, with a few specks of gray beginning to appear in his hair. Still he looked like he would be co-operative enough, either way.

"Wake up," I grunted, which seemed to have startled the man. He nearly fell out of his seat, much to the kid's delight. As soon as he focused on me, he eyed me skeptically. He knew better than to cross a Mandalorian.

"Can I help you?" He responded, eying me cautiously. I pointed to the girl. His focus shifted towards her and his eyes widened in surprise.

"You know her father?"

"No," he answered with a stunned surprised before she ran into his arms and he embraced her, "I am her father!" He looked at me frantically, relieved and confused, "How…where…"

"She snuck on board my ship. Brought her back as soon as I could."

"Thank you," he shook my hand rapidly, he himself almost ripping it off. "I don't know how I can repay you."

"The fifteen thousand credits she cost me would be nice," I muttered as I crossed my arms. Lena's father's initial joy evaporated when I mentioned fifteen thousand credits.

"Wha…what'd she do?" He asked rather weakly. He couldn't pay that sort of money, not being a working-class mechanic. He was fortunate Mandalorians tend to find little honor in extortion.

"Cost me a bounty." He continued to have his expression of absolute bewilderment as he looked at Lena.

"Lena," he asked gently, "What's this with big bad bounty hunters?"

"He tried to hurt Tauntaun," Lena answered, shying away from me, looking at the bandage on her arm. As soon as she said Tauntaun, I noticed her father also glanced towards the bandage before nodding.

"Now that makes more sense," he admitted with a bit of a chuckle before returning his attention to me, "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid there might be a bit of a misunderstanding."

"There isn't."

"Tawny isn't…" He tried to explain something, but I interrupted him immediately.

"I don't care."

"My wife knows her well, I'm sure…"

"I. Don't. Care." I repeated. "Tell me where Tawny is and I'll leave you in peace."

"Or what?"

"The fifteen thousand credits you don't have." The father sighed, realizing there was no way of talking me out of this hunt.

"She has an apartment about a ten minute walk from here, a few levels up. It's near a large plaza with a statue of some war hero from millennia ago in the middle. I don't think you'll miss it."

"Which way?"

"That way," he pointed down a walkway to my left. He then added, "I think you should reconsider though, Tawny isn't a bad person."

"Told you so," the kid interjected.

"Lena," her father chided her, "Don't forget your manners," he turned his attention back to me once more, "I suppose I owe you our thanks."

"You got something, I got something," I answered bluntly, nodding slightly as an acknowledgment to him.

"C'mon," he stated as he lifted Lena in his arms, "Let's get you home."

With that, he departed with the child, who mercifully was no longer my responsibility, and I could return to more exciting matters. Babysitting was never my idea of fun. I began to follow the directions the father had given me. As I exited the hanger, I realized it had fed into a rather crowded river of civilian activity, as beings of all races and reputations flowed towards their location. I was glad this pursuit was different in nature to that on Tatooine, or else I would've definitely lost the bounty. However, I was able to follow the directions, simplistic as they were, to emerge out of the rushing tides of Coruscanti denizens down a side street into a large plaza.

Sure enough, there was a rather spacious opening, a luxury in the crammed spaces of Coruscant real estate, with an meticulously crafted statue of a human with his arm outstretched, pointing out at the stars, blaster held in his other hand. Apparently working for the Senate had some extra perks. Now that I had time to think about it, the location was not particularly far from the Senate Building either. The authorities would able to respond to any disturbance quickly: rarely a welcome sight in my line of work. In fact the Coruscant Security Force had already dispatched officers. Two humans in blue uniforms, blasters displayed on their hips, stood watch outside the door, and I knew this had become far more complicated. I walked through the plaza, staying close near the edge as to avoid drawing attention to myself. I wasn't sure if they'd recognize Mandalorian armor, but I wasn't keen on finding out either: the officers would shoot on sight if it looked foreign enough.

I made it through the plaza without being detected, somehow. The guards were probably too busy spying upon an Anx and a Gran who were engaged in a conversation on the other side of the plaza. I sulked into a walkway between two buildings, walking around the perimeter of the apartment. As I came to the back of the building, I took a step out, before concealing myself behind the building once more. There was another, far smaller plaza, but there was a prisoner transport with two more guards stationed by it. My suspicions grew once more: CSF had no reason to keep such an apprehension secret. Now, I was incredibly skeptical. Something was amiss, bigger than I thought, and I was definitely going to take part of it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

* * *

"Get your fierfeking hands off me!" I overheard Tawny yelling at the arresting authorities as they dragged her out of the building, her hands cuffed before her. "Fierfeking chaakar, maybe you could do your kriffing jobs for once and let me go!"

I had to admit, I was a bit surprised. She was far more polite towards them then she had been to me during the duration of the flight she spent in the holding cell. She was lucky she looked human, or else they probably would've shot her. These officers were clearly not the finest Coruscant had to offer, nor were the most reputable either. Any idiot could tell that by the way they were dragging Tawny towards the transport.

"Shaddap," one of the officers growled as he roughly tossed her inside the transport, slamming the door behind him as he locked it. He stood outside the transport with another officer, complaining about their work. "I hate Senatorial aides; they think just because they work for the politicians they can get away with whatever they want."

"Prissy brats," the other agreed, "Need to show them that they aren't in charge around here: we are."

"I'm just glad we don't have to file a report on this one."

"I'm glad there's no one recording us."

"Yeah. Maybe if they knew they'd all be dead without us, they'd let us do our kriffin' jobs."

"They'd still be ungrateful twerps," the other officer muttered. Despite this obvious distrust for civilians, and lack of honor within either man, I decided to approach them.

"Damn off-worlder," I heard one of them mutter as they both eyed me suspiciously. Just because they were suspicious, did not mean they were intelligent. They allowed me to approach them to the point they were within reach. He raised his voice, "Sir this is a crime scene. Go about your business."

"This is my business," I replied bluntly.

"This is CSF business," the other guard grunted.

"I don't care," I answered, grabbing the first guard by the collar.

"Hey! What are you…" He was interrupted as I slammed his head against the metal of the transport, concussing him. I dropped his unconscious form to the ground as I ducked under a fist of his companion, before grabbing that man's head and introducing it to the armor plating over my knee. I smirked under my helmet. The bounty was finally mine.

I unlocked the back of the transport by bashing the lock in two, to find Tawny leaning against a wall, head held down. She looked up, expecting a CSF officer, only to be met by me. I could tell by her expression she was surprised. I was even more surprised when she spoke.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you have no idea how glad I am to see you," she commented as she scurried towards me, holding her cuffed hands in front of her. I stared silently. She motioned with her wrists once more. "C'mon, cut me loose."

"Now why would I do that?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Because we're on the _same_ side."

"Then why'd you press a gun to my neck?" I hissed.

"Why'd you lock me in a cage?" She retorted with equal acidity.

"There's a bounty I want to collect."

"Well," she gave me a defiant look of disapproval, questioning my intelligence without a word, "If you don't let me out now, CSF will beat you to it."

"As long as you're in jail." She rolled her eyes.

"These guys are corrupt, Sev! They aren't real officers; they'll shoot us both first and then ask questions!"

"And if I drag you out I'll have all the honest ones after me," I growled. I certainly did not like the officers I encountered here, but I did not want to risk overly antagonizing a corrupt cop if it meant having a hundred honest ones chasing me.

"And you'll still have to drag me along."

"But turning you gets me out."

"You're denser than the armor of your fierfeking helmet," she grumbled, "Sev, please, people will die if you don't help me!"

"I. Don't. Care."

"If you don't," She threatened, "I will scream my head off so loudly that ever CSF officer on the planet will be after your head."

"And you'll never get away," I replied. She was determined, I'll give her that. She was certainly willing to test how far I would go. I could tell by the way she glared at me that she certainly pondered alerting the guards.

"Look," she began one final plea. "I can get you the money you were promised, and erase any warrants for your arrest…and you know that your employer didn't tell you everything." She stuck her bound wrists before my face again, "So if you let me go, you'll get your credits, you'll get a pardon, and you can collect whatever bounty is on your employer, because there has to be one somewhere."

I still stared silently at her, arms remaining crossed. Her offer, I admit, was tempting. I do not enjoy betraying employers. In fact, it is a dishonorable and disreputable business practice. Yet my current employer was less honorable than a Hutt, so perhaps I could stretch my code, just once. Besides, the idea he had a bounty on his head and could give me the same answers I needed was quite the incentive. Somehow, I knew beating information I wanted out of my employer would be more satisfying than it would be with Tawny, simply just to bash in that stupid rat face of his.

"Fine," I growled, doubting my own judgment. It was a leap of faith at the very least. Even she seemed a bit surprised when I agreed. "Watch yourself," I commented as I grabbed my blaster, blasting the lock off her cuffs. They dropped, smoking to the ground, clanging clumsily as the made impact. Tawny felt her wrists as she jumped out of the transport, before she looked at me, a mild smile on her face.

"Thanks Sev," she acknowledged as she embraced me. Tawny can be rather grateful towards any ally, I learned that day. I stood rather stiffly, needless to say, as a professional in a cut throat business; I was not particularly used to this sort of affection from attractive women. It can be a dangerous distraction. It was.

As she ended the embrace, I was still facing the now open transport, and I heard someone behind me speak while a blaster, once again, was pressed into my back.

"You're under arrest," the voice declared, "Hands up now."

I grumbled something incoherently as I glanced over my shoulder. About ten officers surrounded us. I should have realized blasting her cuffs off would have attracted too much unwanted attention. I looked back at her. A determined glare was upon her face, a wild gleam in her eyes. I recognized that expression.

It was the expression of a warrior.

"Duck," she stated, much to my confusion. Regardless, I complied, and her fist instantly sailed over my head into the jaw of the officer who had spoken, who went reeling before he could fire a shot. Immediately she leapt past me and was upon him, striking him once more, knocking him unconscious. Another officer threw himself at her, grabbing her in a chokehold. She responded by flipping him over her back, before scrambling away as the others began reaching for their blasters. One of them decided to block her escape route, but she jammed her shoulder into his chest, knocking him backwards as she swiped a canister from his belt, flinging it back towards us.

"Kriff it!" One of the officers yelled as the canister exploded in a bright flash, disorienting the officers. They began stumbling about in an incoherent manner, however the stunning effects had little to no effect on me, thanks to my armor. I decided once more to give chase. I knew I had made the wrong decision in trusting her now. She was simply using me as an advantage, as all good warriors do, to aid in her own escape. I wasn't going to allow her to escape unpunished this time.

"Hey stop! Stop him!" I heard the officers yell behind me as they recovered. I cursed, it was not something I particularly wanted to do considering the attention it would attract, but it was the best way of stopping their pursuit. I twisted around, raising my arm and aiming towards them. I fired a lone rocket into the street before them, blasting debris up in the ensuring explosion. I turned back, sprinting after Tawny. I knew I couldn't allow her to reach the river of sentients where I would certainly lose her. I rushed ahead, paying no attention to anyone who was near me. I should have noticed a human emerging from an alley as I rushed past her.

Soon I reached the flow of beings, stopping abruptly. "Fierfek!" I cursed loudly. She was gone again. Now I had to run from the law and track a bounty. This had become an irritant now. Knowing the officers would soon give chase once more, I ducked down an alley, concealing myself in the shadows. There, I found myself standing next to a human woman, with shimmering golden-red hair and a dancer's figure. Additionally, she possessed piercing green eyes. It was the one I passed earlier. She had hidden here before I had, hoping I would give chase into the crowd. This disguise would have fooled most hunters. Too bad I'm better than most hunters.

"Nice try," I stated as I jabbed my blaster into the woman's back.

"Someone's not as stupid as they look," she admitted as she raised her arms in surrender.

"And you're not as jaded as you look," I replied. How Tawny had managed to change her appearance so completely yet rapidly escaped my understanding. It seemed impossible. "Answers," I ordered, "Now."

"Fine," she admitted with a sigh, finally realizing she wouldn't escape me. I had to admit, it was a bit unexpected; she was far sincerer with her promise when I had freed her than I believed. "Just, give me a minute." I was about to protest, before I was overcome with awe as the human before me transformed from a red haired woman with shimmering emerald eyes and a dancer's figure, into another human, but with blue eyes and a brown braid: my target. She turned around to face me, hands still up.

"What the…" I muttered.

"I guess you can tell I'm not human," she admitted.

"What are you?"

"Clawdite," she confessed: a changeling. That explained the rapidly changing appearance. It would have made her far more difficult to track as well. I actually wondered why she didn't use it more.

"Then why do you take human form?"

"My parents died when I was young," she paused, "And I was raised by humans."

"Mandalorians?" I asked. Family is an important concept to us, and as a warrior people, we understand the bonds necessary to survive warfare. Adoption is something rather common amongst Mandalorians. Trust, respect, and affection are far more important than bloodlines.

She nodded before answering. "Elek, ni Mando'ad."

"Good," I answered as I holstered my blaster. Fellow Mandalorians, Death Watch hut'uune excluded, are the only people I consider trusting. "Why do you work for the Senate then?"

"I came here as a student, and the senator from Zolan's sector needed someone to do odd jobs for him and the Republic. I took it."

"Why do you care for the Republic?"

"I guess I fell for it," she confessed, "At least, I fell for the idea of the Republic, where all are welcome, and all are equal."

"It doesn't work that way," I growled at this naivety. She looked disdainfully at me.

"Then why don't you try to fix it?"

"It isn't my problem."

"I'm just trying to make this galaxy a bit of a better place."

"You left a child with a homicidal bounty hunter," I countered as I crossed my arms.

Tawny rolled her eyes, "You didn't kill her."

"I wanted to."

"But you didn't, so I'd say I did alright."

"I'd say you're stretching the truth."

"What I told you was the truth," she paused for a moment before conceding, "From a certain point of view."

"So you lied?"

"I did not!" She responded indignantly.

"All criminals are liars."

"Look, I'll admit I took money from your employer," Tawny grumbled, "But it wasn't as if I bought a starship with it!"

"It was still theft."

"Right, and you wouldn't steal from a corporation that treats its workers like slaves to pay for a child's medical support?"

"What does a kid have anything to do with that?" I asked; irritated Tawny had seemingly changed the topic on a whim. Tawny rolled her eyes once more.

"That bandage on Lena's shoulder, you didn't think that was for show, did you? Or maybe you did, it seems like something you'd do."

"What the hell's wrong with the kid?"

"She has some genetic disease, and her parents couldn't afford the treatment," Tawny explained, "So I sure as hell wasn't going to let your employer get away with screwing people while a five-year-old kid would die."

"I think you overstepped your authority."

"And you wouldn't do the same?" She asked, more daring me to accept a challenge than attempting to satisfy her curiosity.

"This is about you. Not me."

"Nice job avoiding the question."

"You're avoiding the real issue here. You said you have information you'd give me. Tell it."

"That won't be necessary," another voice, a Concord Dawn accent interrupted. Tawny had lost focus on me and was now looking at the person behind me. Then I turned around to find I was staring at a Mandalorian, the same one who had fought Bossk on Tatooine judging by the armor.

"Why not?"

"I have information you want," the Mandalorian answered with a decided bluntness about him. Personally, I liked him. He was a good hunter. Actually, as I scanned the armor, I noted he wasn't simply a good hunter; he was one of the best, if not the best.

"She said the same thing," I motioned to Tawny, "Why should I believe you?"

"Because you don't have a choice."

"Why not?"

"It's me or a CSF cell."

"I can manage on my own," I responded, despite not being entirely sure how I could avoid CSF for an extended period of time.

"I'm sure you can," he answered, "But a good hunter uses everything," he paused, "and everyone to his advantages, allies included."

"We aren't allies."

"Not at the moment."

"So what are we, neutral?"

"You could become a very fortunate or very unfortunate man today." He explained, "It depends on how reasonable you're being."

"You're making me an offer?"

"Have you been listening?" Tawny interjected. I glared at her. She shrugged, "I thought he was being forward enough."

"I'll be brief," the hunter stated as I focused back upon him. "You're a clone, my son."

"I'm a clone?" I repeated skeptically. I suppose I should have realized that, any normal being would probably have reacted with some panic. Yet the concept had not particularly phased me, and considering I had no memory of my parents, well, parent, I hadn't ignored the possibility.

"Of me," the Mandalorian answered, "My name is…"

"Jango Fett," I finished the sentence. The armor and the accent were unmistakable. "I know who you are."

"Good," he answered, before returning to explanation, "You were created by Kamino for the Republic."

"You don't care for the Republic," I observed.

"It's strictly business."

"And her?" I pointed to Tawny. Fett looked past my shoulder towards her. I noticed she briefly shied away from eye contact.

"We need to have a chat later," he commented, before returning focus to me. "Let's say you've been rather fortunate, and now isn't time to let that luck run out on you."

"I don't particularly feel lucky."

"You killed one of the cloners and stole a ship," he stated, "The fact you're still alive proves your lucky."

"It proves I'm good at what I do," I growled. He stared silently at me for a moment.

"Good. You passed."

"I passed? What the fierfek is that supposed to mean?"

"Some cloners wanted to test the Fett genome out in the wider galaxy," he explained, "You offered an opportunity, and you survived."

"Great," I sarcastically answered, "So now what happens that I passed your little test?"

"You have a decision to make. You can forget collecting that bounty, and return to Kamino and train with the army. Or you can stay here and die."

"Army life doesn't pay well," I commented.

"Neither does being dead." I turned around, glaring at Tawny. She shrugged silently. She must have agreed with his logic. I turned back towards Jango.

"Fine." I answered, not seeing any viable alternatives. I could try to survive on Coruscant on my own for a while, but CSF would be rather keen on retaliating against a bounty hunter who interfered in an arrest. Furthermore, Jango had been more forthcoming than my employer ever had been, and seemed like the more honest businessman of the two. I would recommend associating with the honest ones more than dishonest associates. Besides, at least I finally understood what Kamino had to do with everything. I motioned for him to go ahead of me, "Lead the way."

"Good choice," he responded before walking past me, before stopping before Tawny. Despite the helmet concealing his emotions, it was clear he was displeased. "I know you have a job to do," he muttered lowly, "But one word of this to the Senate would be your last, understood?"

"But I…" Tawny began to protest only to be immediately silenced by Jango.

"No negotiations," he declared with great finality, before motioning for us to follow him.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Future chapters are currently in the works and will be along as soon as humanly possible; depending on schedules and such. I'd like to shout out a fellow writer, Jedi Commando13, as he's helped me so much with this story, and I haven't thanked him enough for his help, support and editing skills. I really hope this is a good read for you all and I hope you will stick with it! Thanks again, and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"This is going to a real conversational trip, isn't it?" Tawny muttered as we left Coruscant orbit in Jango's ship, the infamous Slave I. Both Jango and I stared coldly at her. Tawny shook her head. "Figures." The next few minutes were silent barring the wailing and shrilling of machines and computers onboard the vessel as Jango began punching in the co-ordinates for our destination. As the stars outside the cockpit began to shift into long white streaks of light, I knew we had entered hyperspace. Still, Jango had remained silent.

If I'm being honest, I would rather have made the journey in my ship, but considering it was now impounded by the Coruscant authorities, that would have been a tad more difficult. Besides, Jango promised to return it to me, I think. When you spend enough time around him, you start to understand lone grunts as complete sentences. I've been told I'm apparently the same way.

"What's the situation?" I asked him, remaining professional. I think we both would appreciate and interact with each other better if we kept that tone. Both of us are men of action, not men of words. Men of words, I find, are cowards. Still there was no answer, from neither him nor Tawny. I added, "You promised me information."

"I did," he stated with a calm firmness.

"Then start talking."

"The short version is you're a clone in service of the Galactic Republic who temporarily went rogue."

"That's all you're telling me?" I grumbled lowly. He had promised information. He knew it, and he knew I wouldn't simply settle for a one sentence answer.

"That's all you need to know."

"I disagree." Jango glared silently at me for a moment. He was not about to give me a full explanation. Still he had made a deal with me, and offered an alliance, even if it may be temporary. There would have to be some form of trust, even if it was minimal. He motioned over to Tawny.

"Tell him," he ordered.

"Tell him what?" She inquired.

"Everything he wants to know."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that," she confessed before she shifted her focus to me. She crossed her arms, as if the explanation would serve more a chore than a service. "Alright, where do you want me to start?"

"The beginning," I grumbled. I noticed Tawny looked back towards Jango for a moment.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell him? You know more about it than I do." Jango remained silent, ignoring her and stating in simply blunt terms that he had no intention of intervening in this explanation. Tawny understood, and despite some grumbling, finally began the explanation I had been promised. Took her long enough.

"About eight years ago, the cloners on Kamino were ordered to create a Grand Army of the Republic. Using an accelerated growth process, they promised they would give the Republic an army of clones ready to combat whatever threat would emerge. Jango Fett," she motioned to him, "Was chosen as the template for the clone army."

"This history lesson is real insightful," I muttered, feeling she was avoiding the point, "but where exactly do I come in?"

"You were one of the first units," she explained. A cold shiver crept up my spine when she said such. "Units." Units. Not people, units, it was something I never had considered. I can't say anything for some other clones, I've heard they can sometimes be mindless zombies, but not Kamino clones. No, Kamino clones are people, not units. They laugh, they cry, they win, they lose, they succeed, they fail, and they suffer. They feel every emotion any other person can. They aren't mindless slaves, it's what makes them superior to droids. Deny this, if you want. Then try shooting one. They bleed. They die. Shoot a clone, and you aren't destroying a machine, but rather, killing a man. Think about that. Think about the kriffing wars they'll die in.

Then here I was, learning I was a clone too. I suppose my lack of panic should have given it away, but there was still something unnerving about the whole thing. I was a unit, not a person. The thought that could happen to anyone disgusted me. Where's the honor in that? Where is the honor in denying the dignity of another? Yes, honor and respect must be earned, but what of the elite who have power without honor or respect who trample others, denying their subjects any chance of honor? It's a disgusting practice, if I must be honest. By trading in their honor, they traded in their dignity, and don't think if I ever cross one of those sorry fools that I'll be merciful.

"And the first units were more volatile than later ones, once the cloners understood what the best modification to the Fett genome would be." I glanced over at Jango. I understood their hesitation; Jango was clearly not the easiest or most reliable companion. Tawny spoke further, "Your designation was RC-01/707."

"My designation?" I repeated with confusion, a slight accent starting to form in my throat. "What happened to a name?"

"They don't name clones," I noticed Tawny had betrayed a bit of disgust unconsciously, before swiftly masking it. It was good to betray as little emotion as possible, despite her slip. "It isn't like they care about them."

"How'd I get my name then?" Tawny shrugged.

"You chose it." For some reason, I expected a more helpful answer. I also thought things would make a bit more sense, when they had not.

"I'm a clone of him?" I pointed to Jango. He nodded once. "That doesn't make any sense," I added, "We look nothing alike."

"Not every clone is going to be an exact copy," Tawny explained, a bit of irritation betrayed in her voice, "Mutations are bound to happen and some recessive genes come out…its basic biology."

"So why don't we see them more often?"

"The cloners deal with it," Jango interjected, not allowing further detail. I'd learn the truth soon enough, and that's when I really learned to hate the Kaminoans. I think most half-decent beings in the galaxy would hate them too, knowing what I know.

"You said eight years ago the cloners started, I don't look eight."

"You missed the part about the accelerated growth process," Tawny interjected in a snarky tone of patronization.

"But I'm not forty either," I grunted in retort.

"Maybe a cloner or your old boss gave you the antidote for the growth acceleration? How am I supposed to know that?"

"Fine," I grumbled before asking, "How'd I get off Kamino then?"

"Initially, you went AWOL, but someone decided that if you could be tracked and return to Kamino for training without dying, it would prove the Fett genome could create a warrior capable of surviving in the greater galaxy."

"I assume I passed," I wryly observed as I began to process what I had been told. Memories began flooding back...

_I awoke to an obnoxiously bright light beating down upon me. I am lying on an operating table. I try to get up, only to find my wrists are bound to the table. I crane my neck to look around, surveying my surroundings. I am in some sort of medical center, yet I doubted it was for healing. A healthy skepticism is something I always hope to maintain._

_In front of some sort of monitoring device, I notice a sentient. It was a slender alien, a pale gray in color, with an equally slender neck of impressive length, elegantly curving upward. It turned to face me, revealing an oval shaped head and a face dominated with cold black eyes, only distinguished by glowing rings which may have served as irises. I didn't care to figure out more._

"_The subject is awake," the alien commented with a small mouth barely moving, before it glided across the floor towards me, before it was over me, staring down with scientific curiosity. Another Kaminoan joined the first, both staring over me with objective demeanors. I glared back with a silent hatred._

"_This matters little," the second decided after a brief pause. "We will exterminate the defective unit, as with the others."_

"_Very well," the first one consented, before gliding away once more. The second one also began towards another task, while I continued to struggle against the straps that bound me to table. It was no use. I could surmise the "defective unit" they discussed was me, and I can assure you, I had no intention of dying._

_The first one returned after a few moments, now with a syringe filled with some clear liquid. I stared at it once more, and it returned the cold void of emotion. It began to bring the syringe towards a pulsing vein in my arm._

"_Wait," I finally spoke. The alien, still expressionless, pulled the syringe back a bit, before tilting its head with curiosity._

"_This will be a painless procedure," it tried to explain. "A procedure that must be done. You would understand, in our position."_

"_My wrists," I grumbled. The alien turned its attention towards my bound wrists. Seeing no issue, it returned to making eye contact with me._

"_I see no issue."_

"_I'm not properly restrained. You need to readjust the straps." The Kaminoan stared blankly at me for a moment, trying to understand that I wanted to maintain order and for everything to be done to perfection. It was how it rationalized my commentary. What the Kaminoans never learned with us clones though, is we're human; we aren't them. We feel things they never can. And any being that understands matters of life and death in a way they never would understand knows, rational thought means nothing in a fight for survival._

"_This shall be done," it announced as it put the syringe on a tray next to the table, before moving to readjust my bonds. As it shifted them, allowing me more movement, I took my chance. Immediately I jerked my wrist free, before grabbing its slender one, and twisting it awkwardly. I released it as it backed away, shrieking in what I can only imagine was its way of conveying pain. The other one turned from its work station, before staring directly at me. I quickly freed my other wrist, before leaping off the table. The lethal injection was still on the tray where the first cloner had left it. It had regained composure and was now staring at me blankly once more, trying to comprehend the irrationality of my actions._

_I grabbed the syringe. Screaming furiously, I charged the cloner, furiously slashing with the needle across its neck. A dark liquid emerged from where I had struck the cloner, blood seeping out. I jammed the needle into the wound, ensuring death for the alien as it felll to its knees, then to the floor._

_Then I turned my attention to the other one, a snarl on my face and pure hatred in my eyes. The second one had begun to call for help._

"_Alert," It stated calmly into a commlink. "Alert. Unit RC-01/707 has broken from its restraints. Please, send secur…" I didn't give it time to finish the sentence. With another furious scream, I had charged at it as well, knocking it to the ground. As I pinned it down, my hands immediately grasped around its neck, squeezing the life out of it. They're an interesting species. They think they're smart, but they're too stupid to fight back when the life slowly is squeezed out of them. Usually, when you choke the life out of something, you can feel it struggle and the go limp as you win. Barely noticed with this one. A pity._

_With the two aliens in the room dead, I looked at the second one's work station. There was a datapad on it. I grabbed it and looked at. They didn't like that I had shown recessive gene traits. They also didn't like I was prone to act on impulsive, and to act violently. Well, they were about to get a lesson on violence. They were going to get a very personal demonstration of their little army before I blasted my way off that accursed planet._

_Defective. Oh, I'd show them how defective I was alright._

_I noticed a belt was also on the workstation. I grabbed it, fastening it around my waist and clipping the datapad to it. It may be useful. I shifted my position, standing next to the door against the wall to attack anyone foolish to enter. A security droid marched into the room, blaster pistol drawn. I forced my weight into it, grabbing the blaster from its mechanical hand. Then I promptly blasted through its head, before it crumpled as a heap of garbage to the ground._

_I charged out of the room, noticing a group of four cloners staring at me. They must have heard the blaster fire. I raised the pistol, firing four shots. I left four corpses. Then I marched the limp figures. I was going to escape this hellhole, one way or another._

"You killed few of the cloners during your escape," Tawny had continued while my memory had begun to return.

"If I remember correctly," I grunted as I crossed my arms, "They tried to kill me first."

_I hid in a side corridor as a contingent of droids march past my position. There were no alarms, no panic, nothing. Admitting an issue exists meant disrupting the carefully crafted hierarchy of the cloners. Nothing can overcome the order they have created. Order cannot descend into chaos. Chaos means failure. Order is law. Order is peace._

_Nevertheless, I saw things differently. Order and chaos were, and still are, irrelevant. All that mattered is life and death. And if staying alive means causing chaos, I will gladly oblige. Poking my head out from my hiding spot, I looked right, then left, to find the droids have passed. I stepped back into the main corridor, clutching my stolen blaster firmly, with one hand on the trigger and the other steadying my aim. I continue forward, at a quicker, yet not panicked, pace._

_I had overheard a ship, a shuttle was on one of the landing pads. It wasn't the best, but it would do well enough, and that's all I cared about. I had begun heading in that direction. I crossed paths with two more droids. They both raised their blasters with silent efficiency. I shot first. The cloners were right, droids are no match for clones. Hell, if any were available for combat at the time, they might have stopped me._

_I continued through the white corridors until reached a turbolift. There was a cloner inside. I took the butt of my blaster and struck across the alien's face with it as I stepped into the turbolift. As the doors sealed behind me and I began my upwards ascend, I slammed the butt of my blaster into the offending cloner's head once more, knocking it to the ground unconscious._

_I stepped over the unconscious alien as the doors slid open on another floor. Ahead of me, I could see through a transparent doorway the outside world. Rain was beating furiously against it, and the crack of lightening blocked out the darkness of storm clouds for a brief moment. I marched ahead, a scowl still on my face. Fortunately, for them, no other cloners crossed me. I continued towards the door without incident._

_As the doors opened, I was instantly pelted with raindrops as a savage wind beat at me, daring me to return. Again, I had no intention of meeting my own death. The shuttle stood unguarded on the platform, a dark silhouette against an even darker skyline. I marched out into maelstrom, the shutting behind me._

_I proceeded forward, wind and rain striking me as I dropped my arms to the side, blaster still clutched in my right hand, scowl still across my face. I continued down the walkway, reaching the landing pad proper, when I heard the doors open behind me despite the roaring of the wind and thunder. I paused, turned so my right shoulder was facing the door, and looked. There was another Kaminoan waiting in the doorway. I raised my pistol, a lightning flash illuminating the hatred burned onto my face, and fired one last shot, before returning focus towards the shuttle._

_I marched up the ramp into the craft, glad to be out of the elements. I had only been outside for a few minutes, but I was already drenched to the bone. I attached the blaster to my belt before heading towards the cockpit. I began starting up the vital systems of the ship. I looked at nearby systems the ship could reach on the navicomputer. Ukio was nearby, and I could get a transport to someplace important there. I began taking off, the weather shaking and rocking the ship. Departing from Kamino is not the smoothest in my opinion. Still, the craft was sturdy enough, and I escaped the atmosphere, before allowing the stars to become streaks through the viewport as I entered hyperspace. I sat back in the pilot's seat, a sardonic smirk on my face._

_The Kaminoans thought they could decide who lives and who dies. The truth is, no one gets that luxury. Everything dies eventually, and how quickly just depends on how badly you deserve to go to hell. I think I had taught them a lesson about that. And now, I had a galaxy of possibilities before me as a reward._

That was all six months ago. As important as that information was, it, as most information does, raised new questions instead of answering old ones. I remembered leaving Kamino, after some prodding. Then I remembered waking up in my employer's office. That was half a year of absolutely no memory. That was half a year I had no recollection of. That was, quite simply, dangerous and disconcerting. I think if I ever do reunite with my old employer, we are going to have a very informative, and very violent chat. He owes me an explanation, and if he doesn't want to give me one, that's fine. His life will also serve as adequate payment.

"You aren't upset about this?" I asked Jango. Despite his stoic blankness, I could tell the question surprised him.

"About what?"

"The fact they didn't think you could get the job done," I commented, "sounds like an insult to me."

Jango simply shrugged. He knew he was the best, no one needed to tell him, and anyone who doubted him learned to regret it. "It was good business."

"Going behind your back?"

"Ensuring a quality product," Jango responded. "There was a nice sum for a 'donation.'" He knew this galaxy well, this was all strictly business. His employers and the cloners knew he could do the job, but a genetically modified version was a different matter. There were variables, variables which could interfere with the quality of the final product. In the industry of war, quality was everything. A good warrior can kill a hundred untrained soldiers. A great warrior is known throughout the ages. An army of great warriors would be invincible. An army of great warriors was what the cloners expected, and what they had to prove they had. This experiment, if one will call it such, did just that. Jango understood. It was not an insult against his prowess. It was simply good business.

Deep down, I think I understood the same thing. This was all just good business.

"And how does she fit into all of this?" I motioned to Tawny once more.

"She doesn't," Jango grumbled. I looked over towards Tawny, who had focused on the floor of the ship, avoiding eye contact. I was perplexed by this sudden shift in attitude. "This is a highly sensitive operation," Jango added, "Only very few know about this. No one outside can know about it."

"Not even the Senate?" Tawny raised her head to face him, countering his assertion.

"Especially not the Senate."

"The Senate doesn't know about this?" I inquired. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong if the Senate was unaware they now had an army preparing itself for deployment whenever the Republic required such. "What about the Jedi?"

"No one knows about this," Tawny blurted out with frustration, "I had to find out half the information myself. I'm sorry, Jango, but I think the Republic deserves to know they have an army waiting for them."

"They'll find out soon enough," Jango stated with a great finality, deciding the conversation was over. To be honest, I'm not even sure he knew the full extent of the situation. He knew he had been paid, very well in fact, and that he was not being paid to ask questions. It is why hunters such as Jango, who get the job done with utmost efficiency and without interfering where they should not, are so valuable in our profession.

Of course, the revelation had finally come to me that my profession was about to change, and I was about to take a serious drop in salary for some greater good that I probably wouldn't give a flying fierfek about. That certainly did nothing to brighten my mood.

"She was persistent," I muttered. Tawny glared at me once more.

"Don't think there's anything I won't do to protect the ones I care about," Tawny declared with an unyielding determination in her declaration. I took a moment to process what she had said. This whole chase she had sent me on was for the Republic, a Republic we both knew was flawed. Sure, I knew there was something my employer and Tawny had neglected to tell me, something far more personal. If this had been for the Republic, imagine what she would do for an ally. Imagine what she would do for a trusted friend. Imagine what she would do for her family. Imagine what she would do for someone she loved with all her heart. She would be unstoppable.

"You're a good Mandalorian," I commented with an approving nod.

"Thanks," she replied. Then she added after a pause, "You aren't totally hopeless yourself."

I glanced over at her with a puzzled expression, and she sheepishly looked away. We may have complimented each other, for once. Perhaps we would have returned to our cool dislike for one another had Jango not interrupted.

"You might want to get some rest," he stated, "Both of you. You'll need it."

I don't think he needed to tell me twice.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I was the first out of the cockpit, brushing passed Tawny with a defensive swagger. I didn't trust her, and she knew it. That was good. That was smart. Trust no one, unless all doubts have been erased. Needless to say, we had plenty of reason to doubt each other. You don't need to be a Jedi to tell that she had doubts about me as well. Can't blame her though; many people have their doubts, and are right to be skeptical. I found a small room with a couple cots, a footlocker in a corner and a work station in another. I took my jetpack from my back and placed it at the foot of a cot and plopped down on it. Tawny found her way in a few moments later, and lay down on the opposite one.

I refused to remove my helmet. There was safety, security in the bucket I held on my shoulders. As I laid upon the cot that I had claimed for the ride, I dozed off. I couldn't fully sleep, nor would I. It would be akin to suicide with Tawny in the same room, and with Jango Fett at the helm of this magnificent ship. Time just seemed to crawl, when I heard a rustle, then a bump.

Instinctively I jerked up from my cot, drawing my blaster and aiming it straight at her chest. I don't take chances; not like this.

"Got a problem." I asked dryly.

"Do you?" She retorted defiantly. Clearly, she wasn't simply going to let me intimidate her. I would appreciate those sorts of people, if I had anything other disdain for most idiots in this galaxy.

"No," I confessed, slowly lowering my DE10 blaster, holstering it once more, still while keeping her well within my line of vision. I stared at her for another moment, and she returned the stare, before I decided this was pointless and returned to lying down on the cot, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"You can drop the tough guy act," she ordered after a moment. I sat back up and looked skeptically towards her.

"What act?" I answered with a sinister smirk. It was a shame my helmet covered it.

"Whatever it is you're doing. You aren't as bad as you make yourself out to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, insulted by the suggestion. She shrugged.

"Heartless bounty hunters shoot intruders on sight, even if the intruder's a little kid."

"Wasn't any use killing her," I muttered.

"Wasn't any use feeding her either," she countered before adding, "Heartless bounty hunters don't keep their prey alive after the chase I gave you."

"You're worth more that way." I muttered again. This was infuriating. We don't get close to other people in my profession. That isn't good for business. That gets a person killed really fierfeking quickly.

"Heartless hunters don't care."

"Heartless hunters just want more money. Jango would've kept you alive too."

"Yeah, and Jango has a code of honor he follows. I don't know if you're too stubborn to admit it, but you're the exact same way. You have a code, ethics, morals, honor, whatever, and that kills your whole 'big bad bounty hunter act.' You aren't a bad person Sev, even you can see that."

"Says a senatorial aide who probably had half of the Senate guard doting on her," I grunted, turning away from her. She had given a good chase, but she was a naive idealistic fool. Senatorial aides are always like that. "I don't think you know how the galaxy works."

"Sev," she spoke quietly. I refused to respond.

"Sev," she repeated. Still I did nothing.

"Sev," she spoke a third time, "Could you at least take your helmet off and look at me for a second?" I grunted some incoherent curse, realizing this would continue the entire trip, before complying, throwing my helmet aside and jerking myself back up into a sitting position. My shocked expression reminded me I should have kept my helmet on.

I wasn't staring at Tawny, at least, not the human form at least. Instead I saw an alien, with brownish-green skin, bulbous reptilian eyes and a sullen face. I realized after a moment, it was her Clawdite form, her true form.

"Do you think I'd be able to get anything done if I went around like this?" Tawny asked me, cynicism betrayed in her voice, "Only reason I was even let near the Senate building was because I looked human. People have trouble looking past appearances." She sighed, "If I couldn't look human, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere near the Senate. I'm lucky I haven't been shot yet..."

"I...you…" I stuttered. I couldn't say anything. I realized it would be best to keep my mouth shut. She wasn't a stupid idealist. No, she knew how the galaxy worked, and how cruel it could be. She was a woman of action. I suppose she humbled me; she was like me in that way.

"Exactly," she admitted rather bitterly, before returning to her favored form as a human brunette, with the only difference being a dark hazel eye tone instead of the blue she had earlier. "I'm not just human because my adoptive parents were. If only it was that simple."

"If only," I repeated, looking aside rather uncomfortable. The galaxy isn't a fair place, my old employer taught me that. I had taught a few people the same lesson myself. Maybe it never was, and maybe it never will be. Although, as Tawny would teach me, that doesn't mean a perfect galaxy isn't worth fighting for. "If it means anything," I added awkwardly after a moment of silence, "It isn't like you're unattractive or anything…"

"Are you saying that about the human me or the Clawdite me?" She asked skeptically. Ok, so I'll admit, I was talking about her human form but only because Clawdites and humans are biologically different enough that we aren't usually attracted to each other's natural appearance. Don't get me started on the peculiarity of Hutt preferences, I rather squish those slugs under my boot anyway. Only reason I'd admit that is because there's more to most people than appearance. Remember that. It will keep you alive, and probably make you a lot happier.

"You should listen to your own advice and look past appearances," I stated, a wry smirk on my face. She seemed surprised that I had answered in such a way. As her initial shock she smiled at me, nodding once.

"Maybe I should," she admitted with a bit of a laugh. She looked at me again, before I realized she was studying my face. I began to grow uncomfortable, and she smirked once again, clearly amused by this. "Don't worry," she admitted as her eyes shifted from their dark hazel to a beautiful blue, "I just like your eye color better."

"I'm flattered," I sarcastically grunted. I soon heard footsteps, and when I turned to see who it was, I saw him.

"We're landing. Get ready," He said, his voice cool and commanding.

I replaced my helmet, grabbed my jetpack and slid it into place. Out of my peripheral, I thought I saw Tawny reveal a genuine smile. Soon, we felt the ship lurch to a stop; our captain's footfalls heavy against the durasteel floor. He passed us heading to the exit hatch, the sound of pounding rain hitting heavy on the hull of the Firespray. As I stepped out of the familiar ship, I looked back, noticing Tawny didn't have anything to save her from the hellfire that was the weather. It hadn't gotten any better since I last left; what a surprise. I unclipped my cape from my left shoulder, and outstretched my arm, offering it to her. She looked at me, astonished and at a loss for words. I gave a silent nod and she took it, draping it over her head before we followed hastily after Fett.

We entered the facility, but not before being soaked to the bone. Jango lifted his helmet from his broad shoulders, with an unwavering swagger that was a man with a purpose. He strutted along the pale, white hallways. Hallways devoid of all color in such a degree that it hurt my eyes when I pulled my helmet from my shoulders.

"I still hate this place," I muttered lowly as I stepped through the pristine white halls once again. It was still unnervingly perfect: unnervingly controlled. Returning to Kamino had reminded me why I hated the damned planet in the first place.

"Get used to it," Jango ordered before continuing our march forward. Tawny and I followed in silence. It was odd to be alongside her, if I'm being frank. Not long ago we had been enemies, opponents trying to outmaneuver and outdo the other one. Now the hunt was over, and a new one had begun. Bitter enemies can become trusted friends overnight if the situation demands it, and I had a feeling one such situation had occurred. Still though, this was all business. Even war is a business. Alliances are made of convenience and practicality, not out of trust or comradery.

"I doubt I will," I admitted, my fingers on my right hand twitching as if I was pulling the trigger of a blaster. I never liked Kamino, never have, and probably never will. I just want to make that clear. I would much rather be in the thick of fighting than in the stifling control of Kamino. At least the fighting is life and death. At least that's natural.

Tawny heaved a gasp of pain, but continued onward with us. She pulled my cape from over top of her, and held it out for me to take.

"Thank you," She admitted somewhat sheepishly. I acknowledged her with a silent nod as took it and clipped it back on my armor.

I continued walking, a light rose color illuminating my cheeks. Jango rounded the corner, and stopped; when I saw what he had stopped for, I couldn't begin to describe how much hate came to the surface. Their pale, white skin shined a horrible shine, and their dark, soulless eyes held no sympathy. The Kaminoan gave no expression when his cold stare glazed over me. Then, he turned his gaze down to Fett.

"I found him," Jango stated, jerking a thumb in my direction. The cloner continued to look at me with an expressionless demur. It was silent. I smirked deviously, wondering if it remembered the way I had left Kamino. Apparently, it hadn't. Either that, or it simply didn't care. They're like that, the Kaminoans. It's why I don't like them.

"Jango Fett, I see you have brought back the specimen. Termination procedures may conclude on schedule per your request." he said coldly.

"No. This one lives. I'm tasking him to Vau, Ter'vho and myself. Put him with the other two from his birth pod."

"But we must maintain the integrity of…"

"Do it," Jango ordered with a great finality.

The slim alien turned his cold stare towards me again. "Then he may begin training immediately," the cloner paused for a moment, scanning my features. I think I may have detected a slight trace of displeasure in the alien's voice as it continued, "Despite his…imperfections. Unit designation RC-01/707, you will come with me immediately; without retaliation."

I heaved a heavy sigh, "Fine."

I begin to take a step when the elder bounty hunter stopped me. He placed a hand on my chest plate, and looked me in the eye. I saw something in those aging eyes of his… Pain, suffering, loss… But yet, they weren't as hard as I had thought they would be.

"Ad'ika, don't kill any of them this time," He spoke softly. The real question was: did I hear him correctly?

"Por meg jorbe?" I replied

"Jorcu val dunui ni waadas," he replied, then hit my shoulder. "Now, get that armor off and get in your required uniform soldier. You have catching up to do." With that he departed, motioning for Tawny to follow him. She looked at me as if she had something more to say. Perhaps she did. We stared at one another in silence for a moment before she realized Jango had neglected to wait for her and forged ahead. She began to follow after him, jogging after him, leaving me alone with the alien.

"Come," it ordered, "You must meet your squad."

"I don't trust you," I replied, crossing my arms. Perhaps, in hindsight, I was actually be a bit petulant. The cloner looked at me with silent curiosity.

"This is an illogical and improper reaction."

"You tried to kill me last time."

"We were simply ensuring quality production."

"Right," I answered skeptically.

"We would not lie to you in this matter. I can assure you, it serves no purpose to mislead you."

"Then lead the way," I grunted before glancing down towards my blasters to make sure they could be drawn at a moment's notice, if needed.

"Thank you," the alien responded with unnerving politeness, before gliding ahead in the opposite direction that Jango and Tawny had proceeded. I followed without question. The alien led me to the end of the hall and opened a door to what looked like a security station. I was surprised. The interior was gray, not white. What a relief.

Inside there were a few more Kaminoans and a few humans. Initially, I was surprised. They all looked like Jango. For a second, I thought they were. Then I realized: they were clones. All the humans I saw were clones, and we were an army. The scale of this project finally began to dawn on me.

"Trooper CT-14/1918," the cloner which had led me in addressed a clone who was looking at a datapad. He snapped to attention, saluting smartly.

"Please escort our newest addition to his barracks, and introduce him to his squad," the cloner instructed before gliding away. The clone nodded, before walking over towards me and tapping something onto his datapad.

"Designation?" He asked, with a relatively nondescript voice, lacking Jango's Concord Dawn accent.

"My name's Sev," I grunted. The clone looked up from his datapad, a bit of annoyance conveyed in his eyes. Funny, they were a bit younger than I expected.

"That's great. Now what's your designation?"

"My name's Sev," I repeated with a scowl. The clone muttered a curse under his breath.

"Look, if you want your own identity, by all means, go ahead and have one. I won't complain, and I won't stop you, but everything here revolves around designations. So you better give me yours or we aren't going to get anywhere, understood?"

"RC-01/707," I relented.

"Not so hard now, was it?" The clone muttered as he typed what I had told him into the datapad. He waited as the pertinent information appeared. After scanning it, he looked up in my direction. "Follow me, please."

"Fine," I grunted as I began after him.

"Name's Fubar by the way," my guide added, before flashing an unamused glare, "And don't ask how I got it."

"Wasn't planning on it," I admitted as I continued following him through another security station into a barracks of sort. Inside clones were divided into groups of three or four, discussing what seemed to be mostly mundane subjects. It seemed they were off-duty at the moment, training most likely completed for the day.

"Any of these mine?" I inquired. I would certainly not tolerate such apathy in their down time. I'd make them Verde. I'd make them warriors.

"No," my guide replied, "Remember you're just a sergeant, you have to be trained too."

"I can manage on my own," I stated, crossing my arms once more.

"I hope they write that on your grave if you're lucky enough to get one," my guide retorted. We may both be clones of the same man, but we certainly were different, and we certainly did not like each other.

"Where are my men?" I changed the subject, returning to business as usual. Having soldiers that were competent and disciplined would be my first priority. That way, they would understand who their boss was, and how to stay alive. Then we could kill whoever was stupid enough to fight an army of Mandalorians.

"In the next room," he began as he looked at the datapad once more. A sardonic chuckle escaped his lips. "Usually a squad has four men, commander included. Yours only has three."

"That a problem?"

"No, but seeing the two you got assigned, I can see why. Don't worry, they'll be enough."

"Great," I sarcastically muttered. Somehow, I knew he wasn't talking about battle prowess, and that I had recruited two idiots. In hindsight, I wish it had been that simple. The white job entered the barracks with a brisk pace. I followed close behind, matching his speed. Inside were the two I had been assigned.

"I'm just saying," I overheard a Concord Dawn accent, similar to Jango's, begin, "I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"It'll get the job done," a thicker accent responded, pushing the boundaries of what was understandable.

"It'll be flashy," the first voice commented with some skepticism.

"You have a problem with it?"

"I just don't think fifty pounds of explosive is the way to go in that situation…"

"Might as well leave a calling card," the second voice protested, before it's owner shrugged casually. "Let them know who they're dealing with."

"I rather keep it for another time," the owner of the first voice muttered, before he looked towards his companion, "Ace, you're absolutely fierfeking insane."

"Is that a problem?"

"Nope. It's an honor to have known you," the first one attempted a smirk which clearly did not fit Jango's face, before returning to tinkering with some mechanical device on a desk he was seated at.

"Attention," my guide, the white job ordered. They instantly shut up and faced us. I walked up to them and gave them the once over.

"So this is who I'm going to be stuck with for the rest of my life? Jate, ori'jate." I said, a light wave of ridicule.

"Congratulations sir," the one who had been working at the desk muttered sarcastically. I glared over at him, marching to face him. I looked down at the mess of wires and parts before him on the desk. There was a very simple casing keeping the maze of intricate pieces from falling all over the place. I placed a finger on it and tapped it gently.

"What's this?" I inquired with a hiss.

"Just a way to pass the time," he answered, a bit too quickly.

"That doesn't tell me what it is."

"A visual scanner, sir." I could tell he was lying immediately.

"For people with one eye? Don't lie to me, soldier. Most scanners have fewer intricate parts and wires." He stared at me for a moment, contemplating whether or not he wanted to tell the truth. He must have figured, correctly, that it would be less painful just to be honest.

"A lightsaber," he stated with a surprising casualness. I raised any eyebrow skeptically.

"What would you need with a lightsaber, while under the employ of the Grand Army of the Republic?"

"Historically speaking, sir, Jedi Knights led the soldiers of the Republic before. I don't think any new war will be much different."

"I don't like Jedi," I grunted, "What's your designation?"

"RC-2213."

"What's your name?"

"Jedi Commando, sir," he stated with a bit of joy betrayed in his voice. He clearly had found some in telling me he was the very thing I disliked.

"Repeat that, soldier. I don't believe I heard you correctly."

"Jedi Commando sir, or Jedi for short." He seemed rather certain of it. I looked towards the other soldier, jerking my thumb at the first. "He for real?"

"Sir, yes sir,"

"You go by Jedi?" He nodded once. I crossed my arms. "Oh, no. I'm not calling you that."

"Suit yourself," he answered.

"Got a problem with Jace or JC?" I asked him. He shrugged nonchalantly, which was the most approval I figured he'd give me.

"Sir, Kal Skirata's my training sergeant."

"Skirata, huh? What's he like?"

"He's a good man," Jace explained, "Cares for his men. Wants us to understand our Mando'ade culture, and to work with each other. I like him, most of his men do. He's a father to us."

"And may I inquire as to why Kal puts up with that osik," I asked, referring to Jace's habit of, well, worshipping the Jedi. I later learned this was just the beginning, and he still annoys me with it to this day. They're good warriors, but they're not exactly doing their jobs now, or else we wouldn't be needed. In the past they were the legendary defenders of the Republic, now they're old and stagnant. Kal Skirata certainly had no love for the Jedi, nor did most of the army, and it seemed it was reserved solely for my squadmate.

"Kal takes all the crazy ones," was the answer from the other one with a nonchalant shrug, "Even a Jedi lover. He'll put up with it as long as they keep each other alive. It's only a problem if they don't."

"Who else is tasked to him?" I inquired.

"The Nulls, RC-1309, RC-1136, and RC-8015...those are all the ones I can think of, offhand, sir." I nodded silently, making a mental note of those designations. It may be useful information in the future.

"The Nulls, huh? I can only imagine why they're called that. What about you?" I turned to the one who's name I had yet to learn. "You aren't one of his, are you?"

"No sir," the soldier shook his head, with a cocky smirk on his face. I was going to wipe it off, one way or another. "Name's Ace, sir, RC-1838."

"Ace, who is your designated training Sergeant?"

"Walon Vau, sir." he replied still with that cocky grin.

I nodded, "Who else has Vau?"

"RC-1138, RC-1140, RC-1207, RC-1262, RC-3222, among others sir."

"How does he train his men?"

"From what Kal told me, he's not exactly my type." Jace interjected with a hint of displeasure in his voice.

I gave Jace one look and he shrugged silently. I don't know who he thought he was, but this was going to be one hell of an experience.

"Well boys, you can find this hard to believe, funny or what have you, but I guess I'm one of you. They told me my designation was RC-1707. They placed me as head of the squad."

They looked at each other and then back at me, making it quite obvious that they were holding back laughs. I set my helmet down, and started removing my armor, piece by piece. I finally managed to get out of everything and put on the skin tight suit that the whole army wore.

"I can't say I like this very much."

"None of us do," Ace answered, "We just kind of get used to it."

"They don't think we're packing much, do they?" I muttered, noticing the uniform was a bit snug around the groin. If this was what we'd use as armor, I'd kill the idiot who thought it was a good idea. "I might as well use my own cod piece. We better have something useful."

"When we get to live fire training," he explained, before adding condescendingly, "Remember to keep your head down." I glared spitefully towards him. I had fought in the galaxy, he had stayed holed-up on Kamino. I doubted he understood how a hunt works, and war, is the ultimate hunt, when predators hunt predators. He hadn't seen someone die in front of him. Not yet. Then he could afford a luxury of mouthing off.

"Is that supposed to mean anything?"

"Vau doesn't train us like Skirata trains his boys. Either you keep your head down, or you get put in bacta for a month. Just ask Atin to show you the scars."

"And that makes you think you know better than me?" I crossed my arms, snarling at him. He needed to learn who was in charge.

"Think?" he responded with a bit of a wry chuckle. "Mate, I know I am."

"We'll see about that," I growled as I marched forward. Ace stood up, a smirk on his face. He's willing, I'll give him that. I would have also given him a few bruises had Jace not stepped in between us.

"I don't think this is a fitting introduction," he interjected, glaring at me more than at Ace. Jace was loyal to those closest to him: good. I realized I wouldn't have to worry about him much, despite his affections for the Jedi. Ace simply started chuckling again.

"Always playing peacemaker, Jedi," he remarked with an amused expression before turning and leaving. I glared at Jace.

"You should've let me pound his face in," I commented. He shrugged once more as he stepped aside and went to return to his work.

"I suppose that's where Kal'buir and Vau differ. No use fighting a friend."

"He isn't my friend," I stated. I don't have any. I don't need any.

"You don't have much say in the matter. Welcome to the army."

"Thanks," I sarcastically muttered, glaring at the door through which Ace had departed. I had a feeling we'd get that sparring match we hoped for sooner or later.

"He's a bit of a hothead," Jace explained, "I think you'll get to like him."

"I better," I grunted bluntly. If I didn't, there would be bigger problems than a broken ego. It was later explained to me that Ace got his name when the Kaminoans realized they might have given him the wrong assignment. He likes a challenge, loves one actually. Got into the flight simulators in his down time, and set a few records. I think the only reason he never got transferred to the Republic Navy or admitted as an ARC trooper was because the cloners couldn't admit they were wrong. I gained from this. Ace: he's a good soldier. Actually, he's a fantastic one. He's a bit of a daredevil, but he gets the job done. Ace and Jace get along too well sometimes, as in, if we have to infiltrate an enemy base, they'll probably obliterate it. I call it being easily excitable. I'll admit, it does the job, but that doesn't mean I like it.

"And you?" I asked after a moment, turning to face Jace. He looked up, a bit surprised I had asked him.

"I thought we already established this, sir."

"We established I don't like you."

"What a surprise," he murmured sarcastically.

"We haven't established if you'll give me trouble."

"Hopefully I'll get us out of some if need be," came the reply as he returned to his work, clearly more focused on that than on the conversation.

"We aren't getting into any under my watch." He looked up once again.

"You don't know Ace and me well enough."

"Of course," I grumbled as my mood visibly shifted from simply irritated to absolutely frustrated. I was bound for trouble. Oh, I had a really bad feeling about this.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The very next morning, I had a very rude awakening. "What now," I grumbled as I shambled off my bunk. I was struck by an unpleasant smell, and by unpleasant, I'm mean the fierfeking worst smell in the galaxy.

"Rise and shine," Jace greeted me with a hint of wry humor in his voice. Beyond that, he gave me no notice, strapping armor pads over his right arm, fastening them tightly. He was more interested in keeping the bulky protection from failing than he was in conversation. "I hope you like training."

"I don't need to be trained," I protested.

"Need to learn teamwork, mate."

"I work alone."

"Not anymore, you don't," I heard an authoritative voice behind me.

I turned to see both Jango and another Mandalorian standing tall, their armor glistening in the soft light of the facility. The other Mandalorian stood ahead of Jango, taking charge of the situation. He was a rather tall human and he would have appeared far more imposing if it was not for gaunt features. Still, he commanded respect and dread with his ashen and humorless features, in a way, more threatening than a broad-shouldered bruiser ever could be. His hair, was dark, but gray had begun to march across his head at the orders of the commander called time. He had the look of war about him; death was not something he feared, rather an old friend who he knew well enough.

"You must be the one Jango was talking about. I'm Walon Vau, but you will refer to me as either Vau or Sir. Got it?" He spoke gruffly.

"Yes sir…" I grumbled

"What? I can't hear you soldier!" He said, turning his right ear toward me, tapping it once.

I clenched my jaw and repeated a little louder, "Yes sir."

"Again!"

I walked up to him, dangerously close and yelled, "Sir, Yes, sir!"

"Better," he stated, before he turned to face Jango. The next thing I knew, he had jerked back towards me, and I felt a fist slam into my face. I stumbled backwards after the attack. Already Vau had struck again though, pushing forward and striking me in the midriff, before I could recover from his initial attack. Now hunched over in pain, I was greeted with a knee to my forehead which practically knocked me unconscious. I lay on the floor, the room spinning around me as Vau stood over me. I think another boot to my chest would have come had Jace placed himself between us.

"I think you're overdoing things, sir," he stated calmly. Vau, stoic as a stone, stared at the soldier that stood between him and me.

"You're one of Kal's," he observed, "Aren't you?"

"Elek," came the response in Mando'a with a nod.

"Tell him he needs to teach you more respect," he snarled before glaring at me. "Like this one here."

"I think it was overkill, sir."

"Definitely Kal's." He then lost all focus on Jace and turned his attention back towards me. "Discipline will keep you alive. You _call_ me Vau or Sir, and _nothing else_. Understood?"

"You'll pay…" I began standing back up, putting a hand to my face. Sure enough, as I inspected it, my fingers were covered in blood. Oh, look at that - Vau had given me a broken nose, but was polite enough to leave all my teeth intact. Lucky me. I snarled, preparing to lunge at the man and choke the life out of him. However, with Jace and now Jango standing between us, I knew that I wouldn't be allowed a response to his initial strike. What a pity.

"You've made your point," Jango observed, before he handed a leash to Vau, who graciously accepted it. I hadn't noticed until now, but Vau had entered the room with an animal. I then identified the source of the putrid smell which woke me. Truth was, hindsight taught me I was glad I didn't strike Vau, much as he deserved it. That animal was a six-legged mammal know as strill; his pet, Lord Mirdalan to be specific, never left his side. For those unfamiliar with ecology on Mandalore, strills are clever hunters, and even as an experienced warrior I loathe the idea of fighting them. That being said, I have grown to appreciate strills in the time since then. They're wonderful hunters; if you can get over the smell, that is. I actually like strills more than most people I've met.

"If you insist," Vau commented.

I placed my index finger and thumb on my nose, and with nauseatic crunch, I reset my nose. Something still felt odd about it. I must not have set it properly. That would have to wait, though. I wiped the blood from my face, and spat; landing a stain of blood on the clean white floor.

"Sir, now that you've humiliated me, when do I get thrown in with the others in the batch?"

"Later," Vau grunted as he jerked a thumb in the direction of Jango, "He wants a word with you."

I glanced over at Jango with a cocked brow. He motioned for me to follow him. I complied, following him through that maze of spotless white corridors until we stopped at an unassuming door. He opened it, and stepped through the threshold. I followed him, and found there to be three other occupants in the small apartment. I scanned them quickly, assessing each. The first was Tawny, who was no longer a threat. The other two, however, I didn't recognize. There was a small boy, about 8 years old, and a woman that looked to be in her late twenties, early thirties. She was dressed in a purple flightsuit with a couple of symbols on her breastplates. The boy, being a child, was not what I would consider dangerous. He was dressed in a plain blue tunic with black boots, his hair was jet black, and a little long, but curly. The woman on the other hand, most likely could be considered a threat. At the very least, she would have to be efficient to associate with Jango Fett.

"This is Zam," Jango motioned to the woman, "A friend. You know Tawny." He then walked over to the boy, whispering something I could not discern. Whatever he did say though, I noticed an upturning of Jango's lips. It might have been the closest he came to a geniune smile. He lifted the child in his arms, holding him, before turning back to face me. "And this is Boba," he concluded, "My son."

I nodded in a silent acknowledgment. I could see the young boy look me over with a critical eye. Smart kid. The resemblance to his father was staggering. He would be a great hunter someday. He'd probably become the best. I continued to investigate the room. It was as austere as its owner.

"With all due respect," I inquired, refocusing on Jango. He had taken a seat, his son seated on his lap, face softened significantly. Jango Fett with a softened face. I can't say I expected to see that. This all seemed peculiar. I was confused. Business: strictly business. That was all this army was: business. This was different though. This certainly was not business. Zam, Tawny, Boba: all were relaxed. It was a different atmosphere than the one Vau introduced me to. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Just to talk," he answered, "Udesii."

I hadn't realized how tense I was. My shoulders loosened when he told me to calm down. Tawny and Zam both seemed amused by my initial tension.

"About what?" I asked.

"Aliit." He responded. Aliit: the Mando'a word for family. Family? I didn't have a family. It would have been dangerous, for them and me. It was something an enemy could exploit. It was something I had exploited in past hunts. Therefore, it had never been something I considered. Family? I didn't have one. I didn't even have a past. A frown appeared on my face. I expected he was planning on ordering me to babysit the two morons they had called my squad.

"If this is about the Jedi lover and the egotistic…"

"It isn't." I tensed again. There was something else. There always was. Complications: I hate complications. All they do is make my job more difficult. Whenever I heard that there were complications, I almost wanted to just quit the damn job. Except this wasn't a job I could quit. He glanced over toward Tawny and Zam before inquiring with a cool professionalism, "Would you mind giving us some privacy?"

"Sure," Zam answered, and began to depart. Tawny however, was more hesitant. She opened her mouth to protest, but an icy glare followed from Jango. It conveyed the message, as she followed directly after Zam.

"Ok," I grumbled once they were out, "Let's get this over with."

Jango glared at me. "Sev," he stated, "I know that look. You're stuck here until you prove that you're not a flight risk. I saved you from being terminated."

"Why?"

He paused for a moment. He was calm, calculated. He always was. Perhaps he wanted another expression for what he wanted. Eventually, he decided the simplest statement would be the best.

"Because I see you as a son. I'm a busy man, and I can't always be here. Boba needs a brother that can show him the way when I can't. Ni haa'taylir gar sa ner ad."

"Tion'jor?"

"Jorcu gar cuyir, bal bic cuyir utrel'a ibac gar jorhaa'ir Mando'a."

Boba gained a new interest in the conversation once we began conversing in Mando'a. I'm not even sure if he understood a word of what we were saying, but I had a faint feeling that Jango had taught him both basic and Mando'a. Either way, Boba learns quickly. Most of his targets never figured that out. I still don't think they have.

"Cuyir sev ner ori'vod jii?" Boba asked, looking up at his father.

"Elek, ad'ika. He is." Jango confirmed, nodding. Boba smiled brightly, and I would later come to know, that the smile he had in that moment was truly one of the last innocent smiles he would ever have. War was coming. Well all knew it. War changes people, even Mandalorians..

"Sev, gar ganar riduurok?"

"Nayc... ogir cuyir nayc ca'nara par kar'taylir darasuum."

"Mar'eyir ca'nara." he said sternly. I could have sworn I saw a bit of regret behind his eyes, and his body language changed. I'm not sure if he knew it, but betrayed a regret. It was one of the few times I noticed him make a mistake. At least, I thought it was a mistake at the time. Even amongst friends: keep emotions private. Family, on the other hand? I couldn't give you an answer, not then.

"Meg meh ogir cuyir nayc solus?"

"Ogir ratiin cuyir."

"Was that all you needed from me?" I asked, heading to the door.

"Get back to training," he ordered. I began to head out before he interrupted me, "Oh, and if Vau lays his hands on you again: fight back. Otherwise, I'll break more than just your nose. Is that clear?"

"Utrel'a." I replied, a low growl forming in my throat.

"Good, send Zam back in." I nodded once before I walked out of the room. Outside, I found Tawny and Zam in conversation.

"Just don't get caught again," I heard Zam warn Tawny. "CSF might be stupid, but that doesn't mean you should irritate them...too much."

"I just got unlucky," Tawny admitted somewhat sheepishly. She then added quickly, "It won't happen again."

"We'll see," Zam responded with an amused chuckle. "Get the job done, and you'll be fine."

"I'm just glad I don't have to stay here," she commented. She was right about that. Kamino ranks rather low on the list of planets I enjoy working on. Then the two noticed me.

"Jango wants to talk to Zam," I stated. Zam nodded once, before acknowledging Tawny one last time. There was a surprising sincerity in the way she addressed her comrade.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," Tawny answered with a nod of her own. With that, Zam departed into the apartment, leaving me in the hallway alone with Tawny.

"You getting off this hellhole?" I asked. Tawny shrugged.

"There's a lot more water than I expected for hell."

"It's hell, either way," I grunted. Then I noticed she had furrowed her brow, looking at me with a perplexed expression. I was confused. If anyone should have been surprised by appearance, it was me when she had turned into a Clawdite back on the ship. "Something wrong?" I demanded.

"Your nose…" she paused for a moment. Right. Vau had broken my nose. There was probably still some blood around the nostril. Now, it probably had evolved into blackish-blue work of abstract art. "...I didn't give you…"

"That was my first day of training," I informed her.

"Looks rough."

"It was." I rolled my eyes. A concerned regard found a way onto her face. She gently reached a hand out towards the broken nose. Initially, I pulled away. I don't get close to people. I don't let people touch me. I don't like it. If someone can put a hand on your face, they can also grip your throat. Or snap your neck. Or gouge your eyes out. Point is: it gets you killed real quick.

"Calm down," she pulled her hand away, "Whoever set your nose back in place clearly wasn't good at it."

"I set my nose."

"You're more used to breaking bones, aren't you?"

I said nothing. I wasn't about to waste time arguing with fact.

"C'mon," she motioned for me to come closer to her. "I'll fix it, I promise." I was rather hesitant. Although my nose still hurt like hell, and I don't think Tawny planned on letting me go with a nose bent thirty-seven degrees in the wrong angle.

"Get it over with," I relented. In truth, she seemed surprised that I let her touch me. That made two of us.

"Don't worry," she tried to calm me as she put a hand on the bridge of my nose and the other closer to my nostrils. "This'll be quick."

"Why do I have a feeling this will hurt?"

"Because it will." I think she wanted get back at me for hunting her. Fair play. "Ready?"

"Just do it."

"Alright," she responded before she set my nose.

"Fierfek!" I yelled as another nauseatic crunch came from my nose. That hurt. I backed away, gripping my nose. After a few moments, I realized the pain had begun to subside, and my nose felt fine again. It certainly felt in the right place.

"Better?" She asked compassionately. I blinked incredulously.

"I think so," I answered. Part of me wondered if this meant I didn't have to smell the strill while my nose healed. That would be a welcome relief.

"You're welcome," she wryly muttered after I neglected to thank her. We stood, looking awkwardly at each other for a moment, neither one speaking. I noticed her shift awkwardly on her feet, as if she was expecting me to say something. I had nothing more to add. Nothing that was professional, at least. "If you'll excuse me," she finally spoke, "I have a job on Coruscant to get back to."

"I hope the pay is good," I commented. I later learned it was rather decent. Who would have thought politics could make a person rich. I still prefer bounty hunting, though. At least my profession has honor.

"Is that all you think about?" She asked, rather disgusted and incredulous. I shrugged.

"It keeps me fed."

"Right," she answered, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. I think she had expected a different answer. I think she wanted to believe I was something other than a heartless bounty hunter. She reluctantly turned to leave. Then a thought struck me. In truth, it seemed like a stupid idea. If this had been strictly business, it would have been. However, my business with Tawny was finished.

"Tawny, wait," I blurted out. Great. That was impulsive. Just great. She turned back to face me. I could tell she was visibly surprised I had stopped her. A heartless bounty hunter never would have. I cursed. This would be bad for business if anyone heard about it.

"If you ever return," I somewhat stiffy suggested, "I would be glad to offer you an inspection of my unit."

"Umm…alright," Tawny answered, clearly puzzled by the offer. I cursed again under my breath. This certainly was not going as intended.

"Or rifle training, or flight simulation," I suggested, "Whatever works for…"

"Sev," she interrupted me, a bit of an amused smirk beginning to find a home on her face. "Are you trying to ask me out on a date?"

"I…uhh…" I tried to play cool, before realizing how ridiculous that was. With a sigh, "Yes, I am."

"Next time," she answered with a chuckle, "try asking me out for dinner."

"If I remember correctly, the food isn't particularly good here."

"Then I'll bring some next time."

"Is that a yes?"

"How's this for an answer?" She asked as she leaned in closer to me, before kissing me on the cheek. Yup, that was definitely a yes, and my day had gotten a hell of a lot better.

"That's...that's…" I stuttered, "That's a good one."

"I thought it was," she answered as a playful gleam flashed across her eyes.

"I have to get to training," I pointed back towards the barracks. She nodded.

"Then I'll see you when I get back."

"Sounds good," I answered before made my way back to the training area, where I returned to reality. Vau was already beating another one of his batch down. I walked in and stood silently, watching him torture the poor lad. Mird was in the corner, watching to see what his master would give him to eat when he was finished. Vau finally relented when he noticed I had returned.

"What did Fett want to talk to you about, boy?"

"I'm not at liberty to say. Bad for business."

He turned and looked at me before allowing a sardonic chuckle to escape his lips. "That's a classic Fett for you." He turned back and gave the downed trooper one last kick and called for a medic. That was when I realized: business had changed. I was no longer a bounty hunter. I was a soldier. The business of the day was war.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"I hate to tell you this sir," Jace muttered after another shell exploded beside our position, sending shockwaves into the ground around us. "But that artillery is still firing."

"I know that," I growled as I loaded a fresh clip into my DC-17. Another explosion rocked our position. I stole a glance over the barricade we had erected before us. A blaster bolt hurled towards me with violent intent. It careened into the barricade, flinging a chunk of the barrier into the air with murderous intent. I was fortunate to have avoided it.

"Ace!" I screamed into my commlink. He should have had that position down. He should have set the charges already. If his ego had gotten in the way again I would murder him after we survived the op. "What the fierfek are you doing?!"

"Ran into some friends," he answered as I heard a quick burst of blaster fire over the commlink. Another shell exploded near us. I cursed. Their aim was improving. We had to move, and quick. I had no plans on becoming a jigsaw puzzle left on a battlefield. "I'll get it down, don't worry."

"Move quicker," I ordered bluntly before I motioned to Jace for his attention. "We need to move. Now."

"They have us pinned," he responded. In fact, my quick foray glancing above cover had nearly cost my skull. Besides, it wasn't as if I had gotten any useful information, other than where one enemy emplacement might be. All I had done was confirm my position. In short, it left us in a losing position. We could sprint to another position of cover, but expose ourselves to searing plasma. The alternative was to stay and pray that Ace got the artillery destroyed before they found us and risk rapid dismemberment. That was war. I was cursed with two awful options.

I'm not a spiritual man. I won't wait for Ace or the Force or some damned idea like that to save me. I save myself.

I motioned towards another barricade. "Get there. I'll cover you." He nodded once. Another blast shook our position. He reached for his belt, gripping a cylinder with a pin at the top. With one fluid motion he ripped the pin free, before tossing it over our barricade. A white smoke began to expand, concealing the path between us and safety. It was brief cover, but it would do the job. A smirk found a home under my helmet as I prepared my rifle.

The DC-17 is such a wonderful weapon! It has an interchangeable weapon system that's standard issue for a Republic Commando; it's a weapon for every situation. Need a reliable rifle? It will do the job. Need an armor emplacement destroyed? If you don't mind lugging along the shell, it will blow everything to hell. I'm not flashy though. My favorite attachment always will be the sniper. That thing drills better than anything I've ever used. All I need to is change the ammo clip, add a scope and barrel, and my enemies will die.

I set the sniper up on what remained of our barricade. To my right, where Jace had sprinted, I heard a couple of blasts. He was drawing their fire as the smoke from his decoy cleared. Good.

A battle is just a hunt with a herd instead of individuals. Hunt in packs, kill, and reap the rewards. Remember that strill Vau had? Strills are fantastic hunters simply because they have brains. They're smart. Their prey isn't. The stupid ones die; it's called evolution. As the smoke cleared, a few blaster bolts tried searching for Jace from where he had drawn their fire. That was idiotic. They revealed their position. It was all I needed.

I felt the recoil of the rifle as I fired once. The target fell. In an instant I headed towards the next target. The rifle recoiled again. The bolt rushed through the enemy skull. Another explosion shook me. I cursed. I was running out of time, and the reverberation had forced me to realign a shot. That could have cost Jace. Still, I squeezed the trigger, catching the head before he could strike my squadmate.

"Clear!" I heard Jace yell over the commlink. I dove into a prone position behind the cover with my rifle as they rediscovered my location. I flung it over my back, drawing my sidearm. "I got you covered!" He added, before I noticed he had emerged from his new position, unleashing an entire clip of ammunition into an enemy placement. Scurrying forward, I rushed after him.

Fortunately, his barrage had bought me some relief, though they could retaliate the moment he reloaded. I noticed he returned behind cover and realized that time had come. Then the blaster fire began gnawing after me, nipping behind my heels. At least it made me run faster when he began unloading into them once again. I leapt behind him as I reached the new position. Nearly instantly, the artillery found our old position. I took my Deecee and returned to the regular rifle, covering Jace when he had to reload. Now we just had to hold our position until Ace destroyed the artillery. If he would.

"Status!" I demanded over the commlink while I took a moment to reload. There wasn't an immediate response. Fierfek. If Ace had gotten himself killed we would have failed the mission. Fierfek. "Status!" I screamed again. Now he decided to answer.

"Explosives laid and ready to blow, pulling back!"

"Understood," I acknowledged him. We continued holding our position for a few moments. Then a brilliant explosion lit up the sky. Good. We did the job.

Within moments, the simulation ceased, and we were transplanted from a battlefield to an elaborate training arena.

"Excellent work cadets," the automated female voice blared through the arena, "Please report to your training sergeant for further instruction."

"Not bad," Jace commented as he removed his helmet, casually holding it in one hand while he slung his rifle over his back.

"Should've been better," I grumbled. My helmet remained on, despite the simulation being over. We should have finished far quicker. It might have been a fictional training exercise, but I was not about to come that close to death in an actual combat simulation. I wish I still worked alone. Then I could do the job the way I wanted to instead of having to wait for someone else.

Speaking of that someone else, I found Ace waiting casually outside the arena, leaning against the white wall of the corridor. His arms were crossed as he lazily acknowledged us.

"Told you I'd get it done," he spoke with an aura of self-importance. I marched up to him and flung my helmet.

"What the fierfek was that!?" I screamed at him.

"My job," he responded with a condescendingly raised eyebrow. "Did you expect anything else?"

"I kriffin' expected you to take your fierfeking job seriously instead of fierfeking around and kriffin' us over!" I grabbed his arm above the elbow, jerking him into a more alert position. He ripped his arm free as I continued to chastise him. "You think this is funny? Do you? Do you think this is a kriffin' joke just because this is a kriffin' simulation! No! It might be some lousy fierfeking simulation now, but when that becomes live fire this osik is what keeps you alive instead of kriffin' the whole op!"

"In case you've forgotten, I wasn't the one who got in trouble."

"Because you kriffed us over!"

"We still passed," he shrugged again. I growled lowly. This was ridiculous. He needed to learn how war worked. It wasn't a joke, and raw talent wouldn't keep him alive. Right now, the only thing keeping him alive was me.

"This time. Next time," I jabbed my finger into his chest as I adopted a calmer and colder demeanor, "You'll get to watch how you let us die before they skull-kriff you with a rifle."

That got his attention. A snarl forced its way onto his face. See, if I had learned one thing about Ace it's that he hates traitors. Anyone who abandons a comrade is a traitor in his eyes. Accusing him of such is. "I'm sorry sir, I don't think I heard you correctly."

"You did. I know you don't like me, private," I then jerked a thumb towards Jace, "But what about Jace? You almost got him killed."

"It was a kriffin' simulation…"

"This time," I repeated. "Next time? The squad's dead. Remember that."

"Mate, I didn't come to hear you preach."

"Well you better start listening."

"About teamwork from someone who hates everyone?" He chuckled sardonically, "You're worse than the cloners."

"I hit harder," I growled as I clenched my fists, my temper rising once again. I hated the simulations. It never felt like true combat. There was never any sort of thrill in it. There was no blood to draw, nor was there any satisfaction in destroying a hologram. I longed for a true opponent. If Ace wanted to bleed, I would gladly oblige.

"I'd love to see that."

"I think you'll have to wait," Jace interrupted. Both of us glared at him. He was always playing peacemaker. Right now, neither one of us wanted it. Just once he should have let us pound the fierfek out of each other. However, he simply pointed ahead of him. We turned to face where he motioned. Contrasting the pristine white, a dark figure of a gaunt human was striding towards us. Instantly we stood at attention.

"Not the best," Vau calmly observed. At least he agreed with me. First he scanned our faces, mine, Ace's, then Jace's. Then what might have been an amused smile formed on his lips.

"RC-2213, go report to Kal. He'll give you a more in-depth assessment."

"Yes sir," he seemed hesitant to leave us, probably assuming we would have tried to strangle each other when he left. Still, he had an order he was not keen on disobeying. He proceeded with decent haste as Ace and I shot spiteful glances towards each other while awaiting criticism, or an uppercut, knowing Vau.

"You know," he tilted his head in the direction Jace had headed. "He scored higher than both of you." Vau paused. "And you know the funniest thing? I know he doesn't give a flying fierfek about which one of you scores highest on the simulation. And Kal's going to coddle him and tell him what a great kriffing job he and why he should be proud. It's pathetic to treat soldiers like children, but because of you two numbskulls, he might have earned it. Why? Because he sees you're a kriffing team and isn't letting his ego get in his way."

"He's having a lucky streak," Ace mumbled. I had to agree with him. According to the simulations, Ace was usually one of the best soldiers in the entire army. I jostled with him for a high position. Jace tended to score respectably but far lower. More recently, he had begun matching us, and the only thing that made sense was luck. It would have been a shot which should never been able to find a target, or ducking behind cover with convenient speed. The best explanation was that he was having a remarkable streak of luck. I don't know why Vau had decided to now mention Jace had been bettering us in the more recent exercises.

"Is that an excuse?" Vau demanded. Ace and I both knew if we answered in the affirmative, that we'd be in for weeks of hell. Instead we both remained silent. "You say that's luck? In this galaxy, there's no such thing as luck."

"Duly noticed," I answered.

"And you know what else? He isn't a little man trying to prove he can play with big boys, and that working alone makes him real fierfeking tough. He'll end up dragging you both through the war if you don't get your acts together. Both of you need to learn how to work together. Figure it out," he stared at me, "Or Mird will teach you."

He stormed away without another word, leaving Ace and me alone again. Neither one of us wanted to reconcile at the moment. "Mate," he spoke with a cold disdain, "If you ever suggest Jedi or I would betray each other again, I will break your neck."

"Why's that?" I inquired.

"Aliit, mate. Maybe you should learn what it means," he ordered before he stormed after Vau.

I shook my head before I began wandering in the other direction. He had tested my nerves enough for the day. Hopefully he was planning on bolo-ball or something instead of heading to barracks. He would probably be slightly more willing to get his head out his shebse after kicking the osik out of some poor keeper, or the net if he wanted to be less merciful. In fact, I took a long a longer way back to the barracks than usual. I was both aggravated and humiliated. I needed to be calm. Emotion has no place in war. Betraying any would be a weakness. I had betrayed far more than I should if. I never made that mistake as a hunter. I shook my head again.

I needed a drink. In fact, it had been far too long since I had a decent meal, let alone a decent drink. I don't think the cloners understood how taste worked. Then, as I began to calm down, a smile formed on my face. I would get that meal after all.

Tawny was coming. She had begun to visit for a couple days at a time every few weeks. How the Senate allowed her to travel to some forgotten planet at the edge of the galaxy baffled me, but I figured the bureaucracy just never noticed she left. At least it worked out for us. It had been three weeks, fourteen hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirty-nine seconds since I last saw her in person. Needless to say, it had felt longer.

"He keeps a timer?" Her voice was the first I heard as I entered the barracks. I walked inside to find Jace putting his equipment back into a footlocker. He nodded as he took his chestplate off.

"There are a lot of things the helmet HUDs can do," he informed her.

"That's remarkably sweet of him," I heard her stifle a chuckle while she sat on my bunk.

"Don't get him used to it," I interrupted as they both shifted their attention to me.

"Why not?" Tawny asked with a feigned innocence as she leapt from the bunk onto the ground. I noticed my squad mate smirk and shake his head as he placed an armguard into the locker.

"I promised him I could get him to call me Jedi."

"I don't like Jedi," I hissed. Meanwhile Jace just shrugged as he placed his last piece of armor and shut the locker, sitting on it.

"I still keep my promises," he added.

"Speaking of Jedi," Tawny turned her attention back to him, "How's the lightsaber coming?"

"Along," he answered laconically.

"That all? How did you get that far anyway?"

"I found schematics in a library the cadets had access to," he explained, "Cloners probably thought it might be useful to have. Most of the parts were easy enough to find, and I just got a power cell. Finding crystals for it has been proving more difficult than I had hoped."

"You need crystals?" She asked as I noticed her tone shifted. Kriff. I knew that tone of voice. It was the tone when she got a dangerous idea. Dangerous ideas are her favorite ones. I could guess where this was headed. Already I disliked it, although, to be fair, I dislike most things. He answered with a simple nod.

"I can get some," she told him. Immediately his face lightened up like an excited child.

"You're joking…" he began in amazement. She shook her head.

"I work for the Senate, remember?" Jace looked at her for a moment, before he turned to face me.

"Sir, I love your girlfriend."

"Don't get any ideas," I ordered. "About the lightsaber either. You'll never use the thing anyway."

"I'll see if I can get trained," he admitted before sauntering out of the room. "And I know you two want to do things I don't want to see. I hope your evening comes out nicely."

"I thought he would never leave," I muttered as Tawny ran into my arms. We stood for a moment in an embrace before letting go.

She paused a moment before kissing me on the cheek. "What's new?"

"I'm surrounded by idiots," I answered in the bluntest way I could.

"I don't think that's new."

"They always think up new ways to drive _me_ crazy."

"Which one is it?" I noticed excitement dance across her face. All it did was add further insult to a humiliating situation. Yet she looked eager, as if there was some humor to be found in the situation. There wasn't.

"You think this is funny, don't you?"

"To be honest? Just a little…"

"It isn't."

"Well to be fair, we do this every time I come…"

"We do what?" I asked with further indignance. The day, as most others, was certainly testing my nerves. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, I come by, you complain about Jedi or Ace, I smile and nod, you grumble about how I'm not listening, I give you some advice, you decide not to listen and then we…"

"I get the picture," I cut her off with a subdued grumble. She was right, of course. I just wasn't interested in hearing it.

"That doesn't mean I won't listen," she continued. There was an irony about that. She was about to listen to me about how other people won't listen to me. "So, which one was it?"

"Ace. I swear, he's going to be the death of me."

"A lot of people have tried before him."

"He's gotten closer to the rest of them," I muttered as I pulled myself away from her and sulked over to sit on my foot locker. "For fierfek's sake! This isn't some game! Instead he just plays around and kriffing decides Jace and I can shove it! That idiot! That selfish, glory-hunting, idiot! He wants to die for glory? Fine! Just don't drag Jace and me into it!"

She didn't answer, not at first. I was seething. Instead she just followed my footsteps, sitting on the bunk next to me. I began to calm down. I don't know, she just has that effect on me, I can't explain it. She just does. I mean, I like it, don't get me wrong, it's just I'm not used to people getting that close to me. "Sev," she whispered gently as she put her head on my shoulder, "Have you tried trusting him?"

I snorted at the suggested. Trust? Trust comes slowly, if ever in bounty hunting. You can't trust someone who wants money or glory. You can't trust anyone. It's one of the first rules of bounty hunting: Trust no one. The end result is staying alive.

"Well, you trust me, right?" She asked as she took her head off my shoulder and stared at me. I stared back. Trusted her? Of course I trusted her. Why wouldn't I?

"Why do you have to ask?"

"You didn't at first. You locked me in the holding cell of your ship."

"I didn't know you at first. You were my target, I had to assume you were a dangerous enemy and would kill me at any possible moment. It wasn't until Jang'buir showed me otherwise that I began to trust you."

"He didn't give you much choice." She was right. If Jang'buir hadn't told me to trust her, I wouldn't have. I probably wouldn't be stuck in this damn army and would have been well-paid after handing her over to my employer. Well, I'm glad I didn't. "And I mean, you don't have much choice at the moment."

"We always got along better than I do with Ace."

"Sev, I put a blaster to the back of your head."

"You had a mission. It's different."

"So is this. Sev, this isn't bounty hunting anymore. Ace isn't a rival, he's a friend, but you can't trust him. He'll follow someone that will. Why do you think he gets along fine with Jedi?"

"Jace is gullible enough to trust the Chancellor," I retorted. After a moment to consider it, Tawny realized I was right.

"Ok, well…he's...he just...ok, you're right he's probably the most gullible person I've ever met."

"And how does this help me with Ace?"

"Because Ace knows Jedi will have his back. They trust each other. Just show him he can trust you too."

"And how do I do that?" I raised an eyebrow skeptically. She just smiled.

"I can't give you all the answers, can I?"

"You always make things more complicated than they have to be."

"It's my job." She giggled slightly and kissed me on the cheek again.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Put up with the idiots of the galaxy."

"I put up with you," she bantered back instantly. We both laughed. I put my arm around her as she put her head on my shoulder again.

"I'd be totally kriffed without you," I confessed.

"No… You'd just be doing what you always did with more grunting than actual talking." she joked.

I looked at her with an expression of a confused and scrunched face I don't think I could replicate, "What?"

She smiled at me, "It's cute when you try, though."

"Whatever," I grunted. Instantly, she threw her head back and burst into laughter. It took me a moment to register what had made it so funny.

"C'mon," she motioned to a satchel next to the locker that I hadn't noticed beforehand. Damn it. That was dangerous. If I missed that because I was angry with Ace, that could have worse repercussions on the battlefield. "I promised you real food," Tawny added, "Didn't I?"

My expression just lit up in absolute happiness. "Is it Life Day already?"

"Not quite," she commented as she left to grab the satchel. She grabbed it and shoved a hand inside, fumbling around for something. "You better eat healthy," she joked as she tossed the fruit she had found to me. I grabbed the reddish-orange sphere out of the sky, before promptly shoving the ripened morsel into my mouth. Muja fruit: also known as real food. I had forgotten how good actual food tasted. It sure as hell was better than the synthesized garbage they claim is food that they feed us.

"Phanks wou," I garbled my thanks through chewing. Tawny just smiled again.

"Anything to get that scowl off your face," she responded as she brought the satchel back to me, sitting on the foot locker once more. I was told that the best way to make friends, romantic or otherwise, was through food. I guess it makes sense, considering everyone needs food, and Kamino had taught me how much value good food has. Regardless, Tawny and I spent the next hour or two eating and talking. It was probably the best part of a day that had been rather poor otherwise.

As we finished most of the contents, Tawny reached back into the bag, pulling out another muja fruit. She offered it to me, "You want it?"

"Not at the moment." Tawny shrugged and handed it to me anyway.

"For later. If not give it to Jedi or Ace or something." I took it without comment at first. In fact, I hadn't thought much of it. Then, I realized something. Tawny was a genius.

"I have to go," I kissed her quickly before I burst off the foot locker. "I'll be back soon."

"Hey," she stumbled after me for a few paces. "Where are you going?!"

"Taking your advice!" I yelled as I waved the hand with the fruit. Tawny just stopped and a reassuring smile formed on her face; she understood. I ran to the mess hall, which, after overeating, was probably one of my worst ideas. I'm still amazed I didn't vomit on the way. I took the fruit and safely secured it into a pouch on my belt, making sure the thing wouldn't get squished. That would both ruin my plan and infuriate me.

I didn't find Ace inside the mess hall actually. I think he was heading there, but he had been interrupted by one of the cloners. He later explained it was just about a malfunction with one of the simulators and they wanted to know if he had noticed anything. It wasn't anything important, or it wouldn't have been if it hadn't stopped him long enough for me to reach him. He glared rather disdainfully towards me.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to talk…" I began only to be interrupted as a group of regular troopers began walking past us. There were three of them.

"Well, well, gents," the leader of the trio sardonically muttered, "Commando units. They're supposed to be great enough to win the war themselves. Makes me wonder why we're here at all."

"Mate," Ace retorted, "We clean up your messes."

"You think you're better than us?" the trooper stopped, turning to face Ace with his two thugs behind him. Sometimes, I wonder how we were all part of the same genome considering the variety of personality and, more bluntly, decency within the army.

"Better than you?" I crossed my arms, "He definitely is." I noticed Ace raise an eyebrow for a brief moment. He hadn't expected it. Truth be told, I hadn't either.

"You're worse than the kriffin' ARCs," the trooper snarled, "Thinking you can win the war yourselves without us…"

"I can win this war myself," Ace chuckled.

"Oh? Why, I'm surprised you don't need your precious sergeants to coddle you."

"We don't get coddled. We learn to fight," I informed him, before a bloodthirsty grin flashed on my face, "Want me to show you?"

I could smell the tension. My muscles tense with excitement. Finally, something other than the damn simulations. Finally I could remember what it was like to see something bleed. The thrill of the hunt, the savage simplicity. My nostrils flared in anticipation. If this moron wanted to fight with me, fine. My armor needed some new bloodstains anyway.

He didn't say anything, instead trying to respond with a sucker punch. I blocked it while one of his cronies lunged towards Ace. Ace responded instantly with a block of his own, before bringing his fist into the stomach of the attacker. The trooper stumbled backwards, before Ace grabbed his head and decided it was best if he introduced his opponent to his knee. The unconscious form of the trooper crumpled to the ground. The other thug swung wildly at Ace, only for my comrade to easily avoid the blow. Immediately he jabbed forward, wrapping his arm around his foe. The poor fool was flailing his limbs pathetically as he tried to loosen Ace's grip. Fortunately, he slipped into unconsciousness soon enough.

Their leader, well, he wasn't as lucky. After his initial strike, I responded with a fist of my own, right into his jaw. He stumbled backwards, as I followed menacingly after him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I flung him to the ground in the roughest way I thought possible. He slammed against the pristine white, before rolling onto his back. Good. My foot then promptly dove onto his chest. He convulsed as it slammed into him. Then I was upon him. My fists began pummeling his face, furiously driving into him. First I made his eyes black. Next came the face. I think blue suited him better. Offering an example of Vau, I broke his nose with another punch. Then I drew some blood. Good. The floor was too fierfeking white anyway. Afterwards I knocked a tooth out. At least the garbage in the mess hall wasn't difficult to chew. I should have stopped long before, but no, the thrill of battle is a drug. Once it strikes, it consumes you. And I love it, by the Force, I love it. I wish training could be like this more often.

"Sir! Udesii!" Ace grabbed my fist, stopping my fist before I could deliver another blow. I let out a guttural noise before I ripped my hand free.

"I'm not finished," I turned my attention to the trooper who was well unconscious by now. He probably would have died if I had gotten another punch or two in. In hindsight, it was good Ace stopped me.

"He isn't worth it, sir!" Ace ripped me off the trooper. I stared at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly, I was panting, the adrenaline flushing my system. Perhaps I would have punched him instead and ruined any chance of reconciliation. I never found out, though, as we heard footsteps coming in our direction.

"Kriff," Ace cursed, "We're getting court martialed…"

"I'll deal with this," I grumbled. I turned in the direction of the footsteps. Approaching us was a sullen man with an animal on a leash, a predator that seemed excited by the current scene before us. He approached us with a cold demeanor, before stopping to investigate. He saw the three unconscious troopers, silently noting one was in far worse shape than the other two.

"Care to explain?" Vau inquired bluntly.

"I didn't like them," I answered bluntly before motioning to Ace, "And I made him join in to even the odds."

"Did you? That lack of discipline has consequences. Reassignment, probation, probable court martial," he turned his focus to Ace, "Although I'm sure your squad will be happy to see you go."

"Actually, sir," Ace mumbled, as if he was reluctant to support me. I think part of him wanted to see me humiliated and arrested. Except I had supported him. The least he could do was repay the favor. He wouldn't consider the alternative. Tawny was right about Ace. "They picked a fight with me. My commander just stood by me. It wasn't his fault, sir."

"I see," I noticed his lips turn upward. I think it was his version of a smile. He nodded deliberately before glancing at me. "Son, you're a terrible liar. You should return to barracks. That's an order."

"But what about this," I motioned to the three unconscious bodies.

"At my age," Vau shrugged, "I sometimes lose my grip on Mird's leash. If they understood strills they'd realize they're lucky to be alive. Now, go. I'll take care of this."

Ace and I both nodded silently, before marching back towards our barracks at a much quicker pace than usual. As soon as we were sure we were far enough to avoid suspicion, we returned to a much more casual speed.

"Nice work," I informed him. Ace just responded with perplexion.

"Sir?"

"In the fight. Kandosii." He stopped abruptly.

"Sir, what is this about?"

"I'm congratulating you for a job well done, Soldier, is that a problem?"

"What ever happened to bashing my face in? Not that you could, but I thought you wanted to try." I nearly did since he insisted if I couldn't. Although I simply clenched my fist again. I had narrowly avoided a court martial once already.

"We need to stick together. Whether we like or not. I need to work with you, and you need to work with me. Understand?"

"If you trust me to do the job," he responded, "We won't have a problem sir."

"Good," I nodded once. He began ahead of me again, before I interrupted him.

"Wait," I opened that pouch on my belt. Somehow the fruit had survived. Finally something had gone well. He turned to face me as I tossed it to him.

"What's this?"

"Real food," I explained, "I expect you to be at your best during tomorrow's simulation, understood?"

He smirked, before taking a bite out of his snack. There was a cockiness about his demeanor. "Me? Why would you expect anything less."


End file.
